When Friends Don’t Call Anymore

Staying in touch has never been more important

We are at the beginning of a new year, and I’ve seen a lot of the usual “new year, new me” and “fresh start” posts flying around on social media. I’m all for making efforts to better ourselves, but I’m worried about a trend I’ve seen that urges people to cut out toxic relationships or “dead weight” among our friends.

I understand needing to go zero contact with soul-killing people. I was estranged from my mother for ten years prior to her death. A part of me regrets that we never reconciled. I always thought we would have time – after I healed, after I became immune to her attacks. But that didn’t happen until I turned thirty, and she was gone by then.

This recent trend isn’t talking about deep relationships that may have left scars on your psyche. The advice I’ve seen urges people to stop “crossing oceans for someone who wouldn’t cross a puddle for you.” But it doesn't address the question of perception. What if your idea of a puddle is an ocean to them?

Sometimes we rush to cut people out of our lives for not calling, not visiting, or not returning our efforts without knowing their side of the story. We rarely know the full story of someone else’s life.

We can be quick to feel neglected or slighted when someone doesn’t return our energy, but maybe their silence isn’t about you. It could be about what they’re going through. Perhaps they are struggling just to get through one day at time and have no energy left at the end of each day to reach out, return phone calls, or just hang.

People don’t always talk about what they’re going through. Silence can easily be read as apathy or even enmity. You might think they are thinking bad things about you when in reality, they aren’t even thinking about you at all because they can barely focus on what is happening in their own life. They are running to keep up and barely have time to breathe let alone talk. Maybe they’re struggling with their own mental health, and the smallest interactions feel overwhelming.

I think, instead of withdrawing our empathy from those who don’t reciprocate, we should expand it. This is not advocating futile attempts at chasing someone who has ghosted you, but simply extending a quick text, DM, or voice mail to a friend with whom you haven’t communicated in a while.

Those who know me will likely tell you that I am guilty of falling into “radio silence.” When I’m depressed, distracted, or overwhelmed, I burrow into my blanket fort and close out the world. It’s just me and the dogs, with my husband granted visiting privileges. Such behavior is especially prevalent during these dark, bitterly cold months of the year.

Just last week, I received a text from a long-time friend and realized that we hadn’t communicated in nearly a year. I wasn’t upset at her silence. I understand the inclination to hide in a hole when the world is too much. We picked up where we left off last year.

This week, if you have a few minutes, text “Hello” or message a silly meme to a friend who has been silent for a while. At the worst, they don’t respond. But maybe you will rekindle a friendship that went dormant for a while, like a plant waiting to blossom once more. There are times when tending to your friendship garden is better than pruning something that can be revived.

Humans are social animals, and we need a sense of community to survive. There’s an epidemic of loneliness sweeping through society. We’re isolated much of the time, staring at screens that blast clickbait headlines designed to spark outrage. This outrage comes at the cost of “othering” segments of the population, driving deep divisions. Every single one of us falls into this “other” category according to someone. Ostracism is in the eye of the beholder.

Don’t fall for the clickbait. Don’t buy into the division. We are all human beings with the same desire to be loved, comforted, valued. Nobody has to earn the right to be alive and free from suffering.

winter wonderland

The snow is falling softly outside the window, smoothing over all the imperfections of the world with a layer of sugary softness. There is nothing so ugly that it can’t be transformed into a winter wonderland. Rush hour is just beginning, and thousands of commuters don’t think the snow is lovely. But the hush of new fallen snow softens all our voices. Let that same soft snow envelop you in a coating of icy confection, dulling the sharp edges of the week.

Every day, we have an opportunity to choose. Let’s choose hope over despair, healing over hurt, and love over hate.

Tell me, what one thing can you do this weekend to bring hope and healing into the world where you are?