I count myself lucky that I can count on one hand the number of truly close friends I can call upon in times of trouble. One of those is my mom, another is my sister and three are high school and college buddies that I am still close with to this day. While some people would balk at the idea of not having a slew of people to be close with, I am grateful that my circle is so small. It means it's tighter and closer-knit. There is a spirit of trust and security between us that I would not have if it were widened.
Yet, it didn't always use to be this way. When I was in high school, I was voted "Most Friendly" because I was in so many different circles. I was close to the athletes because I cheered at every game and rode the bus with them every Friday evening that we had an away game. I was friends with the literature lovers because we had a monthly book club that met in the library after school. I was even close with the marching band members because all through my middle school tenure, I'd played flute with many of them and formed close connections. While it was great to walk down the halls and know almost every face I saw, that kind of social connectedness can ironically be incredibly isolating.
In a small town, it can be downright stifling. I found myself in the middle of so many circles of drama, gossip and overshare. I tried my best to be, as many would say "Switzerland" and remain neutral in every discussion, but it wasn't long before my own wires became crossed. Any negative word I spoke about someone, every secret I accidentally shared and every boundary I overstepped was quickly found out by someone on the other side. In my effort to be an ally to all, I'd put myself on the outside of my own circle and spent many high school nights alone in my room wondering how to put the pieces back together.
Thankfully, I was able to forge genuine friendships with the few people that I can still count on to this day. However, through that entire experience, I learned a few lessons about myself. Here is what I took away from my time as a social butterfly.
1. Trust is an ironclad commitment.
You can't undo a broken chain of trust. You can't go back in time and make it better, put the words back into your mouth and get back that closeness that you lost the minute you opened it. In high school, I loved being "in the know." We lived in a community of under 1,000 and everyone knew everyone. There wasn't much to do or see so we thrived every time there was something remotely exciting or dramatic going on. That led to chatter and gossip and the kind of destructive speech that tears apart relationships.
I was entrusted with insider knowledge that many of my close friends felt comfortable sharing with me. Yet, being privy to it made me feel powerful and popular and I'd misuse the information time and again. Hindsight is 20/20 but if I could go back and tell my high-school self anything, it would be this: If something is told to you in confidence, hold it in your heart as you would a secret, golden treasure. With the exception of information that absolutely needs to be shared to ensure someone's safety, let your listening ear be a safe haven and when you gain someone's trust, fight with all of your might to keep it.
2. It's better to protect than destroy.
Why does anyone find joy in picking apart others? Why do we derive satisfaction from learning something about someone else that should have remained private and confidential? There are certain things that are inherently personal and should be kept that way. It's the reason why we install encryption software on our computers, password-protect our cell phones and lock our doors every time we leave the house. We want to safeguard that which we find important to keep to ourselves.
In high school, I didn't think twice about destroying that intimate barrier of protection that my friends had built up around them. Like a child throwing snowballs at a makeshift ice fort, I took those walls down when I should have been helping to build them up. Adolescence is a tricky time for everyone and we're still learning who we are, what we want and where we should go. We shouldn't make it more difficult or confusing by diminishing someone's every effort to guard their heart and maintain some shred of secrecy throughout the growing-up years. Being a fierce protector of this process, on the other hand, is a much more worthy pursuit.
3. You find out who your friends are.
Despite my setbacks as a friend in high school, I had a circle of people who saw past my faults, my failures and my disappointing actions and stuck it out with me through the murk. I am forever grateful that they did because eventually I did grow up, realize the error of my ways, and tried to be the kind of friend I should have always been to them. To my surprise, they were ready and waiting to pick up that relationship.
Now, we have an ongoing text thread. Instead of talking about each other, stabbing others in the back and engaging in futile small-town gossip, we're swapping stories about infants crying through the night, toddlers starting preschool, and where to get the best maternity clothes. The grace that these women extend to me daily is beyond comprehension and I'm thankful I was given a second chance with each of them. Life brought us full circle and being able to share my daily ups and downs with people who knew me back then has been incredible.
So here's to showing up. Here's to being the kind of friend that a friend wants to have. Here's to listening intently, sharing in the struggles of others, and being a beacon of trust and truth. Perhaps most importantly, here's to understanding how to protect our most valuable and precious gift in life -- each other.