Coming To Terms With The Fact That I… Well… I Messed Up.

For the past couple of years now, I have wallowed in some self pity on occasion with regards to the mass exodus of friendships from my life that occurred right around the time I a) dated my to-be husband, b) got pregnant, c) got married, and then d) gave birth to our child.

A little background is called for:  At the time, I had been greatly involved and dedicated as a leader to my church in both the young adult and worship areas.

When I first dated my to-be husband (of course not knowing he eventually would be), our relationship lasted about two weeks and then he, being fresh on the rebound from a prior relationship gone wrong, broke up with me.  To sum it up, I went through the next 8 months in a flurry of depression, desperation as I clung to any kind of relationship/interaction with him (which often included attending parties where there was drinking), general craziness that occurs in the female psyche when she is dumped and can’t understand why, grieving over the loss of two grandparents right around the time of the break-up, pursuing God desperately in quiet times when I was alone, and flailing in my other relationships as I struggled with the loss of him and them and figuring me out.

Eventually he moved on from the prior relationship, and right about the time I was beginning to feel normal and self-confident enough again to move on (yet still harboring that wisp of hope where he was concerned), he was interested again.  Naturally I was receptive to his interest, and so… well, let’s just say we weren’t very traditional in our courtship seeing as how our son was born about 5 months after we were married. Being that I worked at the same church we both had been leaders at when we met, this obviously opened a few cans o’ worms and consequences that weren’t necessarily pleasant.  But hey, we deserved most of them from the choices we made, and so we received them and then tried to move on.

From that time until now, I think it’s safe to say I have retained maybe two solid friends from the time before I first dated my husband.  And only one of those friends keeps up with me on a quasi-regular basis.  For the rest, I turn to my husband, my family (parents and step-sisters), and sometimes my coworkers.  I am slowly building relationships with women I know from a message board I frequent, and there are a few possibilities at the church where we just became members.  So there is hope on the horizon as far as friendships go… it’s just taking a long time and is slow going for someone who used to be able to juggle several social interactions in one week.

Anyway… enough background… Let’s get to the guts of this post.  I messed up.  And I’m not just talking about the whole pregnant-before-married thing.  I royally failed in my role as a friend.  I slowly let my future husband – actually, my pursuit and focus and hopes for the man who would eventually become my husband – move my focus far and away from every friend I had at the time.  Ultimately, on looking at where I’m at now, I do not regret the destination of my path from back then – it has led me to a loving husband and two amazing children.  I can and do, however, regret how I chose to take each fork in the road on that path.

You see, up until a few days ago, I was absolutely and entirely focused on the idea that they had all abandoned me.  That it was all of their judgementalism, all of their self-righteousness and superiority, all of their selfishness that led to me feeling absolutely alienated by 99% of the non-blood-related people who claimed any closeness to me.  I have been entirely and all too conveniently unwilling to look at what faults I had during that tumultuous year (and the days following) that might have chased people from me.

Do I still think that those past friends could have handled certain things in a more forgiving manner?  Sure I do.  But that’s not nearly as important as it is for me to examine my own faults and actions that led me down the path I elected to take.  I made choices that incurred risks, and I now see that I really took for granted people who had a limit as to how far they would indulge my deviations before they decided to call it quits.  Ideally, we would all have boundless ability to forgive and accept those who might hurt or wrong us (whether directly or indirectly)… but it’s just not reality.  It is absolutely something to strive for – but, as I said, not something to take for granted in others.  THAT is selfish and naive and deserving of space.

I messed up.  And I’m sorry for it.  I think I’m only beginning the process of assessing my errors during those years (specifically 2006) and realizing my need to apologize for them.  I don’t expect or deserve forgiveness – while that would be a neat boon to receive, that’s not the ultimate point of the process.  I can’t go back and change what is done or how I treated others.  I can only realize what I did, adjust my behavior to line up more with how God would want me to behave/choose, and move forward in accord with that directive as best as I can.  I can also grieve the losses of those friendships, and instead of cajoling on and on about how I wish things could be different, I need to accept that they aren’t and move forward into new relationships.

I wish all of my former friends the very best, and I hope they are surrounded by friends now that are far better then what I was back then.  And I hope that I can be that friend to surround others in new relationships moving forward.