Too Many Friends
Is it just me or do we all have too many friends?
You can pretend it’s not a problem all year but come December there’s no avoiding the niggling realisation that you have a severe case of friend overload.
Christmas cards will do it to you, both the real life ones clogging your mailbox and virtual e-cards choking your inbox. Combined with the disproportionate flow of invitations to all manner of festive get togethers, it can make you feel exceedingly popular, but also slightly guilty.
I’ve sent no Christmas cards this year. I didn’t do it last year either nor the one before that. The last time was in 1989, I think. I haven’t sent e-cards, not even a group email or one of those texts with Christmas trees made of asterixes. It’s not that I don’t care about my friends. It’s just I don’t have time.
Perhaps instead of Christmas being the time to renew auld acquaintance forgot, it should be the time to take stock. Instead of sending tidings to everyone we’ve ever met, we should drop some. Not from a great height or with any malice but more of a gentle discard, like an annual stock take. Just as we’d quite happily chuck out everything in our wardrobe that we haven’t worn of late, so too the friends whose lives have taken a different course. You may still adore those black stiletto boots and have great memories of them. They stood by you in tough times but you haven’t worn them for at least two years, so go they must. Send them to St. Vinnies for someone who’ll appreciate them more, just as friends drift on to people they have more in common with at certain stages of life. It’s with regret and sentimentality that we cull but it’s vital to make way for the new.
There’s no need for a grand statement but a quiet acceptance of a natural parting of the ways. It’s less humiliating than clinging on for dear life. I no longer say, ‘let’s catch up’ or anything of the sort unless I plan to. Facebook’s only made it worse populating friends with the click of a mouse.
The friends to keep are the ones who understand. The ones who no matter how much time passes or Christmas cards remain unsent will always be there. You don’t need to explain yourself with these friends. The bond survives even when your priorities skew in different directions.
The ones you can’t sustain are those who require regular maintenance: Weekly phone calls, birthday gifts… and Christmas cards. They’re the ones who when you ring will feign shock and exclaim, ‘Oh, you’re alive!’ laying on a guilt trip for your slackness. It’s simply impossible to keep up every friend we’ve ever made. If we try, we risk losing those who matter.
But it’s not easy to let go. I tried once, at least in my head. I followed Kerry Armstrong’s book, The Circles, advising we place our kin in seven circles the first being the inner circle and the outer for those who don’t make us feel good about ourselves. It’s strangely liberating banishing those who’ve let you down while elevating exciting new acquaintances. But to implement the plan is another matter. What if you’ve got it wrong? Particularly at this time of year when you may be susceptible to Missing Out Syndrome when you need all the friends you can get. How dreadful to be left off a party list because you haven’t texted in weeks.
And totally off the point but as this is my last column before Christmas, let’s not beat around the bush. When your family asks what you want for Christmas, tell them this: a man who’ll love me for who I am, and marry me by this time next year. That’ll stop them asking if you’ve met anyone nice this year.