Failing Friendships

My heart thumped in my chest and the lump in my throat accentuated it's dryness as sweat started to bead on my forehead. Anxiety ran through my body as I fidgeted with my fingers trying to figure out how to bring up the news. There was never a good time and there isn't a good way. 


That was my hellish reality for several months when I first began my transition and I was doing the rounds with all my friends to let them know what I was doing. Fears ran deep through me about how they would react, how would they see me and what would be the future of the friendship. As might be considered wise, I prepared myself for the possibilities. I steeled myself in case they threw a few superlatives as they were presented with a concept that they could not possibly understand and they decided that you were therefore a freak which the no longer wanted in the same room with them, let alone their lives. I prepared myself for the real possibility that I might end up totally alone with not a single friend in the world.


When you're expecting a slap in the face, any sign of compassion, understanding or acceptance is a surprise. It may be a welcome surprise, but it is a surprise nonetheless. Friends rally around me and pledge their support and understanding because, after all, they aren't going to throw away years of friendship. Tears are shed as I tell them of my fears and hugs are shared as we both say how glad you are that you didn't do "anything silly". Fears dissolve and, feeling rather foolish but ecstatic, I want to sing from the roof tops about how wonderful my friends are and how lucky I am to have them.


A journey of a thousand miles may begin with a step, but the first step is not necessarily the hardest. As my journey progresses and my legs weary and my spirit begins to sag, I turn to my friends. Unfortunately, they are busy with prior engagements or other friends which is fine. They are friends with lives after all and not my indebted servants who should come running at a whim. However, time and time again, they seem not to be able to be there and may begin posting cryptic messages on facebook that seem to mourn the passing of a friend. Some ask for a little time alone to come to terms with such big news and that seems fair enough. Their promises of contacting me later begin to bristle like thorns when "later" never arrives. Maybe I finally manage to meet one or two of them again, but the meetings are short, the warmth missing and the pledged emotional support strangely absent.


Not being one to jump to conclusions, some probing finally confirms your fears. Accusations of being selfish and running merrily along my life leaving others behind to pick up the pieces are let loose as I sit at the precipice of my own path. Looking around at the shattered pieces around me, attempting to summon up the strength each morning to try to shove another two ill shaped morsels together so that I can crawl forward in my own life, I wonder how such charges could be raised. Somehow, I'm apparently happy and am selfish for causing all this suffering and not being there for people who told me to leave them alone. Finally, the truth is revealed and as my "friends" turn their backs to march out of my life, they reach past my lowered defences and rip out my heart.


That, I was not prepared for.