[NOTE: As always, you can submit an anonymous question right here or using any of the submission links on my Substack. They all take you to the same enchanted Google doc.]
July 4th is coming up, and I wasn’t invited to do anything by any of the people I consider friends. I know some will be legit out of town, but not all. I’m not even into the 4th all that much. It’s actually kind of loud and boring. But I always extend invites for other occasions, so some sort of outreach would’ve been nice. A few hours at some barbecue would’ve been preferable to binging Netflix so I don’t have to think about whether I matter to anyone.
I have to admit that I’m struggling to empathize. I have hundreds of invitations from good friends who won’t buy a single hot dog bun until they know I’ll be present to make their cookout relevant, from entire cities that don’t even begin planning their fireworks extravaganza unless my attendance is triple-confirmed. But as a thought experiment, let me ponder a wild alternate timeline in which I am not a uniquely in-demand social asset.
Most friendships aren’t in perfect equilibrium. Someone’s always more of the initiator, and that isn’t necessarily a problem as long as the proportion is reasonable for both parties. And, of course, this can fluctuate over time. Someone who you once heard from regularly now finds themselves preoccupied by family demands, a new job, or an elaborate hobby they’re insisting on calling a new job. In other words, life happens. But any friendship requires a modicum of nurturing.
So lift your hands from the wheel, and do not let Jesus take it if he gets any cute ideas. Ask yourself what would happen if you silently refused to initiate contact with everyone in your social circle. If you just let go. Who would contact you and when? If the answers are no one and never, then things need to change. People who’d otherwise entirely exit your life without your constant prodding probably aren’t worth much of your attention, until such time as they resurface after the divorce. That can certainly happen, and there’s no reason you can’t passive-aggressively welcome them back if it does. But right now, your faith in old friendships might be preventing you from making new ones. Your assumptions about the present are hindering your future. That's very understandable. I’d rather summon cenobites with a puzzle box than commit to the toil of making new friends as an adult. You might have to do that, however, if you want to be unhappy at someone’s boring Fourth of July pool party next year.
dear jason,
i appreciate you and this!
on the subject of the letter writer's not wanting to "have to think about whether I matter to anyone," a question: when you've extended invitations to people and they've accepted, how does that make you feel? seems like you and those folks matter to each other!
also, have you considered just reaching out to folks to let them know that they matter to you, regardless of any invitation? it's something that i find brings a lot of joy. there are some friends i reach out to more than they reach out to me, but when i see them or hear from them, they are often very appreciative of that outreach.
good to remember: "Most friendships aren’t in perfect equilibrium"
thank you for sharing, jason!
love
myq
PS letter writer, you matter to ME!
One thing not mentioned in the question but likely relevant: are you & your friends getting older? (If not please hook us up with your secret diet/exercise regimen/sacrifice to the old gods.) People tend to get more homebody-ish and less invitebody-ish as they age, pair up, have kids, etc., and the pandemic cranked that tendency to 11. But agreed that if you are always relying on other people to be the instigators that will eventually dry up like your skin collagen.