I sit in a parking lot. Scrolling through my contacts, a feeling washes over me. This feeling is all too familiar. A phone call confirmed what I already knew. Everyone is busy, too busy. The back burner was where my friendship rested with many people. No person filled the void, and I was lonely. Making friends was never the problem. More often, I experienced exclusion and self-doubt.
After the initial progression into high school, I experienced many events that triggered my ultimate self-realization. What made me whom I am was the realization of true friendship. Sustaining true friendship is a lot more challenging than we give it credit for. This is partially due the rise of social media. My friends would often hang out without me and post a picture or a status on social media, seeing the new notification constantly pushed me into a hole of questions. Why was I excluded? Why do they like her better than me? Am I too annoying to be their friend anymore? These series of stereotypical teenage questions guaranteed me to feel a pang of loneliness.
The friendships with these girls started in second or third grade, and every day of grade school was where our friendship formulated; however, these girls, my best friends, with whom I surrounded myself were in a constant state of negativity that only grew as we aged. Insecurities I had about myself were often made the joke of our little group. Friends who seemed so honest and true to me started to pick themselves up by pushing me down. My feelings were used as a pawn in the game of life, and much to my dismay I never seemed to be winning.
When I participated in a volunteer project at school, my so called friends released the last straw. My mom was one of the designated drivers for our group as was another girl’s mom. After picking up the map of the area, I walked outside to meet the girls. Looking around I saw many other groups setting out to complete our school project. My friends were gone. The group all decided that going with the other girl would be fun. It did not even occur to them that I was without a group. Tears welled up in my eyes and I knew they would fall. I ran to my mom’s car, slamming the door. Concern. I saw it in her eyes. My only thought was, “I’m not even a good enough daughter to have friends am I?” She saw my feelings. Calls were made, but the words I wanted to say, the ones I needed to say lodged themselves in my throat. The confusion of leaving me behind was left unrealized.
The project no longer mattered, and I knew that the friendships with these girls would never be the same. Left behind was something I would not tolerate, so I threw myself into time at my dance studio.
I was always comfortable at the dance studio. I often spent any free time I had making up dances and listening to music there. But This was different. I was going to take my energy and use it to help. At first, I helped out once a week, and soon it was two days; eventually the studio became a second home to me. Between my regular classes and being a teaching assistant, all of my time went to dance. I was inspired. Learning more through teaching than I ever had learning baffled me. I could see young students making improvements in their skills and the joy they had in accomplishment of a new technique. Their understanding of a step or dance move was up to me, and I took pride in my ability to convey a lesson. Soon the thought hit me: teaching is a calling. I wanted that calling to be mine.
There were a few other girls who helped out with the same classes. They became the new backbone I needed. Their friendship helped my confidence blossom. These friends have the purest of hearts and truly exemplify the meaning of friendship. There will never be enough gratitude I can express for these friends. Beyond dance the have enhanced my life. They have helped me grow in my faith, they make me laugh, and they protect me. There is much praise to be said about people who would drop their world to help pick up someone else’s. My friends are those people; they are the friends I have come to know and will cherish forever.
