I’m always here to listen. To build you up. To talk about you. To listen to you. I do it because that’s what friends are for. But it’s exhausting. To exert so much energy into any relationship and be left feeling continuously dismissed and invisible.
Maybe it’s my fault. Opening up to people does not come easy to me. I imagine having a conversation with me about how I’m really doing and how I’m really feeling is a lot like pulling teeth. Uncomfortably slow and painful. I don’t mean to be so difficult. I swear. I just don’t know how to answer those types of questions candidly. “I’m fine” and “I’m okay” spill off my tongue before you even finish asking the question.
So people have a tendency to tell me that I should be more open. That I shouldn’t be so afraid to share my emotions. They encourage me to let my guard down. They tell me that there is honor in vulnerability. Want to know what else lays within vulnerability? Loneliness.
I came across this passage in Luvvie Ajayi's book I'm judging you: The Do-Better Manual:
“SOS Pal also does not call you to check up on you, and there have been times when they called you in their emergency and you mentioned yours, but they brushed it aside, because ‘this is about my pain.’
Don’t drop your burdens on people without also being willing to drop some blessing on them, too.”
I may not be as articulate with my feelings as you are but it doesn't mean I don't have any. Moral of the story: sometimes the people who are always there for you need you to be there for them too. They just might not now how to let you know.
