I’m not great at many things, and to be honest, I don’t mind much. I struggle to peel a hardboiled egg without damaging the egg white. Sports? Not my forte. Math? My high school algebra teacher would be horrified at my current knowledge. I can’t even assemble a stylish outfit without first checking Pinterest or a store mannequin. Yes, I have my shortcomings, but for the most part, I let them slide. However, there’s one area where I do wish I could perform better: friendship.
When it comes to being a reliable friend, I tend to fall short. I often neglect to respond to texts, snaps, or Facebook messages in a timely manner. I miss phone calls and occasionally promise to return them, only to forget completely. Sometimes, months can pass without any real back-and-forth conversations.
If my friends don’t pull me out of my house or show up unexpectedly, they might not see me for weeks. I may send a funny meme or comment on their Instagram posts to show I’m still around, but my actual engagement is minimal. I silently observe their lives as I scroll through my Facebook feed, and as long as they appear to be thriving, I don’t feel the urge to reach out more actively.
It’s not that I don’t love my friends—I care for them deeply and think about them often. When a crisis arises, I’m there, ready to help at any hour. But when it comes to the everyday, simple act of just saying “hey,” I struggle to let them know they’re on my mind. I might think, “I should tell her about this,” when something reminds me of a friend, but then… I don’t. Life gets busy and overwhelming, making it hard for me to take on even a small task like a phone call. A conversation could easily consume half an hour, and that’s time I feel I need to spend catching up on everything else.
In my younger days, I was a better friend—more energetic and not as stretched thin, dividing my time between work, my partner, household chores, and children. I had the time to enjoy chats, pedicures, and girls’ nights. Now, I can barely muster the energy to fold the laundry, which is why it’s currently piling up in the basket. Something has to give.
I’ve lost friends due to my tendency to “ghost,” and I can’t fault them for moving on. But those were more superficial acquaintances—my true friends understand that my absence isn’t personal. They know that I often take on more than I can handle, which happens more often than I’d like to admit. During those times, maintaining friendships takes a backseat, and my communication reduces to quick snaps and Facebook likes sent during brief moments of downtime.
The best part about my friends is that they get it. I know they won’t judge me when I flake out or retreat due to anxiety and overwhelm. The fact that I can feel secure enough to step back speaks volumes: I trust they aren’t going anywhere. When I finally resurface, it’ll feel as if no time has passed. Our connection remains intact, as if we’ve never skipped a beat.
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In summary, while I may not be the best at staying in touch with my friends, I’m grateful for those who understand and accept me for who I am. Our friendships endure, and when I’m ready to reach out again, we simply pick up where we left off.