The last six years have been on my mind of late. All six, you ask? Yes, all six.
In 2020, the pandemic imposed isolation on us. In that time, we thrived in social media groups, bonding over common interests from Peloton to Dragons. We became friends with one another and vowed to meet in real life one day.
As time passed and the lockdown lifted, these friends went back to their in-person activities and slowly the connections faded. After a while, I left some of those same groups because I no longer felt connected to them or the people in them. It didn’t happen all at once, but there comes a time when you have to leave a room you are no longer relevant in and move on.
I do not say this out of anger. It’s more a resolute sadness that has not quite gone away. There were people I really thought were friends, but it was barely noticed when I was gone. Social media, in the end, is not real connection. It is not a substitute for being face to face with people.
But the last six years have not just been about that loss. There has been real loss. Some expected, some not. Family, friends, pets. It seems to compound over time and lately it has weighed heavily on me. Maybe it’s simply that I am getting older and feel the loss more sharply because I know that our time is not guaranteed.
Where I struggle is how to build new relationships with people I have not known for twenty years, who already have their own circles. Can you ever truly be part of an established circle without always feeling like an outsider?
The other part is my tender heart — the one that feels so intensely that it becomes hard to open because of the inevitable pain that comes with it. There is a difference between the two kinds of loss I have known. It is one thing to lose someone you love to death. Death is final. Grief has a shape. But to lose someone simply because they disappeared — for whatever reason — leaves you without closure, stranded in a question that never gets answered. That wound is much harder to heal.
For now, I am trying to focus on the small joys that still arrive every day. On my light — dimmer on some days than others, but still mine, still shining, still mattering.
🦄☮️❤️
