all photos by Rebecca Claire, libfemblog.com (CANON EOS 700D) // all rights reserved
I consider my friends here in Leicester to be my little family away from home. There’s about 10 of them here who I love more than life itself, I appreciate them and I stick by them even when they’ve kinda been a dick.
When you’re in school, you’ll fall out with friends over silly things like gel pens and who bitched about who to whom else. In your 20’s your friendships become solid. Like more solid and stable than anything else in your life. Like I WOULD TAKE A BULLET FOR THIS BITCH solid.
And that’s how I thought my friendships were until last year when one particular girl had a very strange and arguably imaginary fall out with the rest of us. At that point I really began to doubt friendship.
When all of that shit happened last year we all recovered really well, supported each other and shared our anger towards the girl that walked away from us. I’m making it sound like a bad break up but it involved a lot less ice cream and we forgot about her in a few weeks.
But when my doubt in people was instilled, I made a hugely conscious effort to be a better friend. I tried my absolute hardest to make Christmas magical for my two best friends who in return gave me somewhere to stay when times were tough and I’d given up my home to another struggling friend.
They were there when nobody else was and they ultimately saved me from suicide. I even dedicated my book to them in February of this year, thanking them for saving my life.
I also feel like I was a total pushover. I lent people money and put my all into everything and had it thrown right back in my face.
It’s the people we care about most that have the biggest ability to hurt us and when your friends are practically family, those fall outs matter so much more than they did when you were 14.
In 2016, fall outs have happened. There were two big break ups that split our group of friends apart and left me feeling pretty damn lost. I felt momentarily that I had nobody. I felt like my life had been ripped to pieces. If it wasn’t for Ash, that month would have been even more difficult and probably would have put me back into a negative spiral.
I guess the point of this post is that if 2016 has taught me one thing, it’s to choose my friends more carefully. Why get involved with people who constantly mistreat those around them? Why risk making your life super complicated?
I don’t plan on letting anybody new into my life unless they’re willing to prove that they’re worth my time. I don’t plan on doing anybody favours until I’ve sussed out whether they actually plan on sticking around or not.
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