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A letter to an advice columnist made me think about the topic of friendship. The LW’s brother died of an overdose following a long addiction and the LW’s friend disappointed her:
“I expected the things close friends do in a crisis: checking in, asking how I’m doing, offering to come over or bring dinner, suggesting we spend time together, or simply asking what I need.”
My first thought was, “These days it’s hard to know what a close friendship requires. We live in an age of microcultures – not commonly shared scripts. People may lack the capacity – not the will – for supporting friends in difficult situations.”
The columnist got it right: he said the absence could be due to “ghosting grief,” where people don’t know what to say. Or the type of death made them uncomfortable. Or simply “because of their own limited bandwidth or emotional capacity.”
I’ve had a friend lash out at me because she felt my response to the death of her dog was uncaring. That definitely cooled the friendship. I’ve also had a more casual acquaintance tell me that a card I sent on the death of her dog was particularly meaningful and helpful.
So when I read this letter, I was reminded of what I believe is true about friendships: expectations matter.
People have limited bandwidth. You don’t know what else is going on in their lives, even if they’re close. A lack of response doesn’t always mean “I don’t care.”
So expecting specific actions from a specific friend can be disappointing at best, friendship-ending at worst.
And in today’s world, we live in microcultures. At one time, in some communities, people knew what was expected. A casserole. A hug. A visit. Now we often don’t know.
I think the columnist made a particularly helpful suggestion. Sometimes the best source of help comes not from close friends and family but from strangers and acquaintances. A casual neighbor will show up and mow your lawn or take your dog for a walk.
And you will do the same for someone else. I wasn’t a close friend of the person when I sent a sympathy card for her dog, but it worked…almost by chance.
As Bella DePaulo says, we single people have the “ones,” not the “one.” We have many friends, not one source of support. It seems that friends play different roles in life: some people are great for a fun evening but just not the type to help in a crisis.
And I have a friend who’s perfect in a crisis but not for sharing a fun time: she can be critical and judgmental, but you’d want her around if you were abandoned on a desert island.
In these days of microcultures, we all have different expectations of what we’d want from a friend. Some people want nothing more than to be left alone.
And sometimes it helps to dig out that casserole recipe…and hope your grieving friend doesn’t feel insulted because you didn’t know about her food allergies.
