“I don’t know what happened. We just grew apart, I guess.”
*Sigh*
How many times have you said this about a relationship? It doesn’t matter if we’re talking about a friend, lover, co-worker, mentor or family member. When relationships seem to fade, evaporate or otherwise disappear, we’re sometimes left with a lingering despair. We wonder, “Was it something I said?” We can’t even retrace our steps to pinpoint the moment when we started to drift.
Introverts tend to form deep, long-lasting relationships with a small group of people. We’re pretty selective, because the interactions require an expenditure of precious energy. It’s not that we’re not energized by people we love; I can leave a conversation with a best friend feeling like I could set the world on fire. I can also be drained of every brain cell, because I’ve given so much to the connection. It’s a different exhaustion than I feel when I’m with people who suck the energy out of me. This one is a good exhaustion, like I’ve emptied myself out to someone I trust. Then I can retreat, reflect and recharge from a nourished place.
When one of those relationships fades, we really feel it. We move in intimate circles. We’re not in a big crowd and suddenly one day notice someone’s absence and say “Hey, where’d Beth go?” (This is NOT to imply that extroverts don’t experience a sense of loss; I’m sure they do, they’re human!). Just as closely as we are aware of someone’s presence, we’re aware of their absence.
Sometimes the relationship has served its purpose and run its course. I’ll share a personal example: I had a dear friend that I met during coach training back in 2008. She was (is!) an amazing woman who inspired me, made me laugh and overflowed with creative, positive energy. We were close for a few years, and then we slowly started to drift. A few days between phone calls became a few weeks, then a few months. I felt the loss, while also feeling like we might not have as much in common anymore. So I was curious about the drift, but not curious enough to reach out with any persistence. After all, that also requires lots of energy, as well as vulnerability.
I don’t remember where I heard or read this, but I came across a liberating idea: perhaps some relationships serve a particular purpose in a particular point in time. They aren’t meant to last forever. The relationship’s claim-to-fame isn’t that it lasted 30 years. It’s important simply because something was learned. Something was given and received, and both people were transformed by it.
It’s easy to acknowledge that now. But in the moment, I felt a sense of grief over the loss of her companionship. I wondered if I did something wrong, or had become boring or too dull for her. I assumed that what was happening was my fault.
In these cases, it’s not about fault. Unless my memory is failing me, I didn’t do anything, and she didn’t do anything. It just turns out there was an expiration date on the real-time friendship, and that date arrived. It doesn’t mean the friendship was a failure, or a waste of time. She will always occupy a place in my heart, and I will forever treasure the gifts she gave me.
This idea doesn’t only apply to people. It can be true with anything you have a relationship with. Think about it: a job that was going so well but went sour. An idea that seemed promising but failed to deliver. A client who seemed like an ideal match who decided to work with someone else.
All of these are examples of things that come into our lives and eventually leave, yet we can hold on to them and become almost debilitated by any perceived failure. We’re attached to the way something “should” be, so we can’t let it be what it is.
And what it may be is this: the job that taught us that we can be a strong leader and make our voice heard. The idea that got us moving so that we’ve gotten that much more done on a bigger idea. The client who taught us something about how effectively we’re distinguishing ourselves from the competition.
If we let go of our attachment – that the friendship “should” last forever, or the idea “should” work perfectly – we open ourselves up to the lessons and gifts of the moment. We make room for a more positive flow of energy. And we create an opportunity to learn more about ourselves and how to make choices that honor our natural preferences as introverts.
Letting go of things that don’t fit any more is a liberating experience. Appreciate the experience or relationship for what it was. Find a way to grieve the loss, as well as celebrate that space has been freed up for something new to come in. Blow a kiss out into the universe, and say a loving and grateful goodbye.
For Thought: What energy-draining feelings, relationships or attachments are you holding on to? What would open up if you let them go?
I was about to say similar to Annette. Thanks Beth! 🙂
Thanks for the post, Beth. So needed!
This is one trait I think many of my extroverted family/friend’s don’t quite get. It’s really hard for me to have many acquaintances, as I thrive with the friendships that are deep and meaningful. Thank you for this post!
I wish I had read this long ago. It took me years to figure out that a life-long friend was just sucking my energy dry. At the time that I stopped returning her calls, I didn’t have the language to explain it to either one of us. I still feel bad about it and hope to one day make amends.
It varies though. I’ma Meyers Briggs Type INTJ. I;ve had discussions on Twitter with a lot of INFJs. We’re very similar, except for that F/T difference.
INTJs let go. And that’s that. And it’s over. Good bye.
INFJs agonize (or so they tell me).
Maybe it’s the same for ENFJs. I have very little trouble letting go and making new (and often better) friends.
Perfect!
The article was spot on,…sometimes even though it is so painful and you know you should let go, that familiar place that was filled with their presence,…
This is exactly the article that I needed to read. Thanks so much for posting!
Lovely article Beth, and so true! We’re always changing, so it makes sense that our needs and friendships change along with that. I’ve definitely experienced friendships dimming, not because anyone ‘did’ anything, but just because we carved out very different lives for ourselves along the way.
While drifting apart from people who were and are meaningful can be painful, it makes room for more meaningful people to enter our lives.
I think I really needed to hear this now. I am actually in the process of drifting away from two of my closest friends. These were people I thought would be in my life forever and letting go is very difficult. There have been missteps on both sides, but that doesn’t make it any easier. Once the pain has gone, I hope this approach will let me look back at these relationships and see them for what they were. Still too painful right now. But very glad you posted this.
Thank you so much for this article, and to your readers for their comments / shared experiences. I only recently realized that I was an introvert, in that I always knew I needed alone time, but I never realized that (1) I needed it to recharge; and (2) needing it was nothing to be sorry for! Not knowing why you need your alone time makes it hard to explain to others why you can’t hang out with them as much as they might like, especially more extroverted friends who require a lot of stimulation and reassurance.
Recently, I lost my best friend of 6 years because she mistook my need for space from *everything* as a desire to get space solely away from her; though we’d never fought once in our relationship, and though I assured her repeatedly that I wasn’t mad at her and didn’t want the friendship to end, I lacked the ability to adequately explain why I needed time alone, and eventually she stopped returning my calls, texts and emails. I struggled a lot with losing my best friend, having a seemingly solid relationship deteriorate so quickly and needlessly, and feeling misunderstood. In the end, what she was so worried I would do to her ended up being exactly what she ended up doing to me. After we parted ways, I struggled with how long it took me to get over the relationship ending, and I appreciate this article so much. Some people come into our lives merely to teach us lessons; in my case, I learned how to understand myself better and set the boundaries that I need to flourish in new and truly better relationships.
I really enjoyed reading this and I agree that at times it’s not about “fault”. Sometimes relationships change and end and no one is to ‘blame’.
This extrovert knows exactly what you’re talking about. As someone who has very deep friendships, I’ve had my share of painful splits over the years–dozens of people who I felt intimately connected to, but over time, the friendship expired (or, once in a while, combusted).
I’ve had to get used to the idea that some friends will drift in and out. I console myself with the idea that I continue to meet amazing people, and, with my ability to bond and be vulnerable, I can make new beautiful connections.
It doesn’t lessen the grief when good friendships end, but it does lessen my self-doubt and inner criticism. Thanks for an important post, Beth.
My very first -(since age 3!!) and one of my best friends finally revealed her true self last year… I am still shocked by how I didnt see it for sooo long – 43 years!!! We lived in diffrent countries for the last 20 years but we kept in constant touch and I always considered her on of my best friends. The last few times with her were so strange and hurtful i was actually relieived to let go.. so sad though..
It
is better to say goodbye to someone who have decided to move forwards rather
than trying to force yourself on him or her. It will help maintaining your
dignity and self-pride