I was having some trouble with my back end, so this look of the site is back again. I’ll probably edit it somewhere along the week, just for a fresh-er start. But back to this for now.
It’s the first year I didn’t wish Q happy birthday. For the past eight to nine years, I’ve been wishing Q on their birthday because of a few reasons.
- One: they don’t have that many friends, or at least not to my knowledge.
- Two: I wanted to care because I honestly feel quite strongly that I should be someone who cares for people. It’s something I’m learning to deal with, especially after Brene Brown’s “Gifts of Imperfection” and I understand more about what I expect out of myself.
- Three: It’s nice to celebrate someone’s birthday, and also to catch up with them for a short bit. It could extend into a full conversation, but a small start is great.
But in the year end, there was no wishing.
We had a falling out of sorts, Q and I. It was getting tiring having to work through differing opinions, and Q is not an easy person to talk to. To me at least. In our talks, I always felt like there were many defenses to work through, and it drained me to think through how I was saying things, because of how they would perceive it.
In any case, the last time I texted Q, it was left unanswered, and I decided I would not want to wish them happy birthday this year.
These are the two responses I am personally working through.
- Why are you, Joel, being so petty about things like this? Just let it go and wish them happy birthday, and maybe that would ease the relationship again
- Finally, you are letting go of these relationship obligations that no one holds you to. Good on you for not forcing yourself on other people.
Both responses are part of me, and yet, I’m leaning towards the latter one still. I’m usually responding the first way, trying to be the nice guy, and looking past the frustrations, and I’ll just suck up my own pride and just talk through things. But another part of me is just very exhausted having to have Q and people like Q at the back of my head whenever I’m talking or interacting with people.
Relationships, friendships, they take a lot of effort to maintain, and it doesn’t feel that great to be the only one maintaining it. Sure, it’s about committing to a friendship, but I think one of the key learning I had the year past was how important it is to draw some boundaries in accepting different kinds of people in their different ways. Especially for me, accepting Q means accepting that they would want me in their life, one way or another. I need to be okay with that, and accept the truth, really, that I’m usually the one to start the conversation or to find out things. It’s a painful truth to deal with, but I guess I’m learning how to be okay with that.
It’s also a time for me to know that I’m no one’s savior. I do have a savior complex, feeling as if I can really be the one to solve the world’s problems. But that’s not true, at all. I’m just another guy, just doing my own thing. I can’t be the one to save Q, and I definitely am too far removed to make anything of that happen. It’s just how life works.
At the same time, there’s always a part of me that feels like Q shits on my achievements because they either don’t care, or don’t understand the value of what I do. It’s humbling for sure, but more severely, it limits what I hope and expect of myself. It feels sad that nothing is ever good enough, including Q’s own work and their own successes. Q’s view of the world is objectively skewed different because of the mental health issues that they go through. I try to remind myself not to accept their lens of the world, because it is not healthy, but it still affects me anyway. Maybe I should have started with that explanation about Q to begin with.
Anyway, just wanted to get all that off my chest, because it’s been weighing on me since December. Learning how to be myself, and not lose who I ought to be. And I should reclaim this space of the relationship to intentionally care for someone else, or to do work that I’m personally proud of.