Only the Best
I wrote this today and shared it on my Substack account and want to share it here as well.
When you find yourself in the place where you are needing to reestablish your presence and find the people who are going to make up your circle there is an opportunity presented where you can be “the old you”, the one who is starting to learn what you are becoming passionate about, or the person you have grown to become. Those opportunities present themselves more often than we are aware.
On a bitterly cold January day, just like the one I’m experiencing today, I’m reliving a memory of walking into a new school in what at the time was a small town, heading into a grade 4 classroom where I knew one person. A young girl, the same age as me, who lived two doors down on my new street had knocked at our door the day after we moved in. Introducing herself she announced to me as the bold nine-year-old she was, that she was going to be my new best friend. I found her confidence in that statement welcoming and hopeful, although I hadn’t specifically decided that I needed a new best friend. I had left 2 best friends behind in the big city and still hadn’t fully come to terms with this transplant into a new life. As the teacher introduced herself to me, and then introduced me my new classmates, my “new best friend” insisted that I sit beside her, and the teacher was more than happy to accommodate.
The two best friends I had left behind were constantly at odds with one another about which one of them was truly and honestly my best friend (as young children will do) and on too many occasions would then turn to me to settle the argument and tell them who ranked number one in my life. I never answered the question and would walk away to let them know I had no intention of choosing one over the other. I liked them both, equally though one was much less demanding of my time and attention. In truth I was pleased that I was no longer in that dynamic of trying to keep everyone happy because once we were apart, I realized I was never happy with either of them. They were friendships made due to proximity of living within the space of houses between us and our age. Moving offered me the chance to hopefully find friends who were more like me.
As the weeks went by, I met two other girls in that classroom. One lived further down the street from me and the other over the creek that ran behind our two houses. These two girls were as different from the ones I’d left in the city as could be, never demanded to know which of them I liked more, opened doors to new adventures, the discovery of music I’d come to love and the chance to explore the beauty of the outdoors. The girl who announced she was my “new best friend” slowly became just the girl who lived two doors down. We were nothing alike and I soon learned it was simply a replay of the girl I’d been in the city, just transplanted to a different location.
Sadly, the girl from further down the street moved to another city herself within months of our meeting and while we kept in touch with letters, as happens when you are nine, turning ten our time and attention were taken up with new people, new experiences. The friend I crossed that creek with by stepping on large stones and trunks of fallen trees (the girl I had been in the city would have been terrified to do anything risky like that), she and I kept our friendship even after I moved back to the big city and she moved to another province. It lasted until we were in our teens and then life took over once again as our futures began to unfold.
I learned from that one-year experience that there was something more to me. Something deeper and more willing to embrace new adventures and new beliefs. Moving back to the city, back to those friends I’d left behind – that changed as well. In the year I was gone they went their separate ways, making different friends and while I felt left out, I could eventually see that it was natural progression. They each found a tribe that was more suited to their personalities. I didn’t miss their friendship and while we were friendly towards one another, I found new friends through school and outside activities. I became a bit more of an introvert, making discoveries about life and about myself and understanding that there are friendships that aren’t meant to last forever. That as we change and grow, so too do the people we spend our time with.
Those childhood friendships are excellent learning opportunities for discovering what we like, what we want to experience with other people, what we believe in, what we stand for, what we bring to a relationship and what we are willing to sacrifice for peace and harmony.
And here I am today, in a situation of looking at my life – where I am with old friends, making new friends, finding people who are like-minded and acknowledging that there is no need to have “a best friend” – every friend in my life is the best. The best of who they are, the best of who I am and the best that we are when together. I can thank Patti and Jennie, those nine year old girls, for that lesson.