This is what we are told as we get older, more often men, but it’s applicable to women too.

NO MAN IS AN ISLAND.

Meaning you need people around you in this world, to support, comfort, listen to, and grow with you. You are not alone, is the screamingly obvious message here.

However, recently I have felt increasingly isolated and alone in this life. I have always had many friends and as an only child they often take the place of biological siblings, especially my childhood friends.

As an adult, making friends is difficult. Making real friends is harder again. We all have many superficial friendships, for example within our hobby groups. I know names and faces, well, mostly I do, but really not much about the actual person or their life. We all have jobs and families of differing sizes and needs, and most of the time I don’t delve deeper for fear of offending or being seen as nosey. Take for example, just in the last fortnight, I have discovered someone’s real first name (thanks Facebook for allowing strange profile names) and that another person has children, two, older ones at that! I had not an inkling! None.

I myself am single, never been married, have no children, have no biological siblings, have several step-siblings of similar age whom I don’t know all that well, divorced and remarried parents, and we all live in different states right across the country. I have always been an independent woman, made my way in this world on my own, straight out of university and into a job and headlong into life, financially and physically. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine I would be 50 years of age and have no long-term life partner, at the very least! I truly am an island. My tiny atoll of family has had its surrounding ribbon reef broken and each family member (islet) scattered many miles away.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m ok in my own company, I don’t need a man, but it’s certainly a lonely journey without someone by my side. And right now, thanks to the last few years which have brought about a change in career, my ageing health status, Covid-19 and the existential rise in cost of living, I am feeling the world attacking me from every side and angle.

My change in career has devastated my financial situation and the added expenses of everyday living is definitely not helping. On top of that I have been going through perimenopause and into post menopause for a staggering 12 years. I’ve experienced the end of a couple of romantic relationships, the most recent was excruciating and has torn my self-confidence apart, and I am sure has left me with a short-term mild case of PTSD. I have lost my fun and happy self. I am not a nice person right now, and I don’t like who I have become.

These are the times when we most need our friendships. Especially women. We are different creatures to men, and thrive when surrounded by other females who believe in us, who support us, who listen, really listen and hear us, who comfort and reassure us that we are all experiencing, or have experienced, similar feelings, concerns, fears and traumas. This is our archipelago. Our closely scattered group of islands.

But as a human, and not a piece of rock in the middle of the ocean, I have feelings that I am allowed to express without judgement. So do you. Our ways and means of expressing these feelings and opinions are going to be different. Compromise needs to come to the fore when confronted with another’s physical and verbal displays. Perhaps some time out to let the situation settle if it’s uncomfortable, or a comforting hug for someone in distress, reassurance to the unsure of self, but beyond all else, acceptance that this person has a right to express how they feel to someone they trust, without fear of rejection. If you can’t speak the truth to friends you trust, who can you speak it to? And what’s the point of friends if they can’t hold up a mirror to you and allow you to see what you’re refusing to see? We may as well all be islands if that is the case. Rocks don’t have a duty of care to one another, why the hell do we pretend?

Not long ago I found myself banished from my archipelago of friends, punished by isolation from my social flock, in fact completely amputated, from the life of someone I thought was a very good friend and by extension, our connecting group of mutual friends. I was, and still am, gob-smacked at the complete selfishness and ignorance of this act. Granted we were both angry, we got on each others last frayed nerve and pushed buttons that caused us to explode. But it takes two to have an argument, two lots of hurt and angry feelings, which involve two separate ways of expressing these feelings. Yet it only takes one to end it. One to hold out the olive branch and attempt to understand the other’s point of view, or, one to end the relationship point blank. I found to my dismay that my friendship was gone, point blank.

Had we stepped back, cooled down and given each other some breathing space, the outcome of this blow-up would have been very different. I am a person slow to anger and explosive when I do hit back. I’m not verbally loud, or physical, but I use words to strike back. Why is it that if someone is loud and physical when they get angry they are forgiven their reaction, but I, the quiet word user, is punished? What ever happened to “sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me”? Does the shouter and pusher of reactions even think about how their actions impact the other? Do they recognise that their reactions are hurting me the same way my reaction is hurting them, only via a different method? I think not.

I believe if someone considers themselves a close friend, they will remember the details of conversations, things that matter to you and affect you. Some of these things will be blatantly stated but others may be only touched on in the depth of a serious conversation. Physical or emotional abuse in relationships, trauma of war or accidents, come to mind, topics worth noting and tucking into ones memory for future reference of possible trigger types.

My observations over time have bracketed people into two general groups, the squeaky wheels and the observers. The former tend to bang on about themselves to anyone who will listen. They’ve always had the worst time in life, always have stresses worse than anyone else and do not hear a word anyone else says. They are completely self-absorbed and blind to others. They are the sappers of energy. The latter prop up and listen to the former, absorbing the verbal blows to allow them to get it off their chests. Often referred to as “the rock” in someone’s life. Unbeknownst to the squeaky wheels, the observers also need to get things off their chests, but are rarely heard by anyone but their own kind. We recognise it in each other by the non or well considered response to a situation. The distant stare in the eye of a hurt but hopeful observer, willing with all their might to get the other party to pipe down and hear the logic in their words and stop being so righteously hurt by reading what they think they see between the lines or are hearing in their own heads while you’re speaking to them. They don’t know how to listen or hear what is being said WITHOUT responding.

The first problem then is, if a squeaky wheel does ask if an observer is ok and the observer has a rant or is pushed into a response before they’re ready, the squeaky wheel takes offence and is taken aback when the observer explodes. Squeaky wheels don’t see the explosion as a manner of getting it off the observers chests the same way they do when they shout and carry on, instead they take umbrage that we have the gall to even get angry, let alone speak it out loud like they do. The double standard is astounding.

The connecting problem is, these two groups of people tend to attract each other. Maybe it’s a subconscious need to balance ourselves out. To keep ourselves afloat, feed off each other, lean on each other, prop up one another or cling on for dear life to keep from drowning. For eternity this has been the case and forever more it shall remain. This is one human behaviour that will always be the instigator of disagreements, arguments, hissy fits, battles and war. It is ego driven most of the time, even if you don’t think so. Each of us will remain stoically right in our own mind IF we never HEAR each other.

I may have lost a friend this time, but I will remain open to conversation and learning about the human psyche, always. We are intricate and fascinating creatures, confusing to say the least, but most of us worthy of second chances. I for one, am not a monster but my temper may manifest as one on occasion.

A friend for a season, a reason or a lifetime. Which one, my friend, are you?