I was recently told by my therapist that I am too isolated and that I need to be more social. She thinks I need to have friends - not just family - with whom I spend time with. I told her that although I used to be very social and always had one or two close friends and then a myriad of social acquaintances, that I no longer do - and that I'm okay with that. I told her that socializing just doesn't seem to be worth the effort. I told her that I don't ever feel lonely or bored and that spending time, even with people I like, is both physically and emotionally draining.
I like people; I really do. And truth is, when I DO spend time with people, I enjoy it. I always walk away feeling happy, even though, paradoxically, it can also be draining. So while I may welcome an unexpected visit or a social event that I absolutely must attend, I do not make the effort to socialize. Not like when I was younger; and I suspect this change in my social efforts happened after Christina died. Maybe it's a coincidence. Maybe it is the result of her death. Either way, I just don't do it any more; and I'm okay with that.
Today was a perfect example of how I have changed, socially. Today I had to take to of my grand children to their gymnastics and ninja classes. While I was sitting in the balcony with all the other parents, a woman came in. A mom of one of the students. She immediately captured my attention because she dressed like me, right down to her jewelry, purse, and shoes. In fact, had it not been for the obvious difference in her dress size, I would say that it looked like she had gone through my closet, jewelry collection, shoes, and purses to put her outfit together. She wore a long black dress with a denim jacket. I wore the exact same outfit just a few days ago. She carried what I call a Boho bag for a purse, as did I.
Now, if I was today who I used to be years ago, I would have approached her, intrigued by our similarities. I would have been certain that because of our outward similarities, that we would likely share many other commonalities. We would likely be birds of a feather, members of the same tribe, on the same wavelength, sisters in spirit. But today, although captivated by our similarities, I declined the inclination to approach her with, "oh I love your purse...I have a few like that" or perhaps with "that necklace you're wearing is pretty and I have one that is similar" all with the hopes of triggering a conversation that would lead to disclosures that would confirm my suspicion that we had things in common. Today, I declined. Why? Why would that be?
I guess I felt like, what's the point? I felt like the effort would take more energy than I wanted to expend. I thought it could end with an inevitable request to share phone numbers which I do not want to do because then that involves commitment. It means it could lead to the kind of relationship that requires meeting for coffee, going shopping together, telling each other our life stories, and I just don't want to do all that. I'm content in my bubble with just me.
Pondering my reluctance to socialize, I also wondered about my inclination to befriend only those women who, on outward appearance, remind me of only myself. Do I do this because I'm looking for common traits between us? Or, am I a conceited narcissist who loves only myself? How healthy is that??
Yes, there was a time when I would've jumped at the opportunity to make a new friend. There was a time when I would have seen our outward similarities as a type of validation - that there really ARE others who are like me. But now, at this point in my life, I simply do not care; I no longer need the validation. I am who I am, like me or not; I care only that I like myself. And that I like my solitary bubble. Why? Why would that be?
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