friendless in flowertown

(to my friends reading this: you know who you are and don't take that title too literally. ily babes)

My whole life, I have been excluded.

Ouch. Harsh, Anna.

Sorry. I wish I was exaggerating.

I'm not trying to be a downer, I'm really not. And yes, I've heard all the stories about me as a kid. How friendly and outgoing I was. How the old people at church called me "their baby" out of the three babies that came to church. How I'd talk to anyone, "make friends" with anyone.

Funny, huh, that I'm also known as a loner.

I don't know how it started. Ever since my childhood best friend started going to "real school" (that's homeschooler code for a school where your mom isn't the only teacher) and I found myself having to branch out and try to make other friends, I've seemed to face a lot of closed doors.

Don't get me wrong, I've made some great friends since then. I really have. I love my friends.

But don't think that doesn't mean I don't see all those Facebook posts and Instagram photos of all of the groups I thought were my friends hanging out without me.

I guess it started when I was transitioning from younger kid to older kid in my homeschool group. The younger kids were becoming less my age group and more my little brother's age, and the older kids suddenly seemed more approachable. They were so cool. I liked their music, their fashion sense, their humor. Some other kids my age were being welcomed into this new world of friends, so I thought, "Of course, I can hang out with them too!"

I couldn't, apparently.

It wasn't so bad, at first. Some of those kids were really nice. Some of us are still friends. Some of them let me listen to Taylor Swift and Imagine Dragons on their iPods (the cool music) and listened to me talk about books and my cat (the only topics I was well-versed in).

Some people weren't so happy with me, though. Some people made it very clear when I was around that I wasn't welcome, that I wasn't one of them. Some of them called me names. They started planning events in front of me that I wasn't invited to. They started giving me the silent treatment. They started making fun of the things I thought were important.

It hurt.

Maybe, just maybe, if this had been the only place I was snubbed, I wouldn't have hurt so much. Maybe it wouldn't have altered my entire personality. Maybe I would still be an extrovert today, because surprise surprise, readers, I wasn't always a hermit.

But it happened again, in church youth group. They didn't want to be friends with me.

And again, in my own extended family. The family member I so desperately wanted to love didn't want me around. By this time, my former best friends had all started "real school" and made new friends or moved away, so I didn't have them anymore to cling to.

By high school, I was exhausted. I couldn't keep trying anymore. So I gave up.

I distanced myself from the homeschool group. I left the church youth program. I stopped bothering my family member. I poured my energy into music and I gave up trying to make friends.

I still made friends, sure, but not the close kind. Not the ones I could go anywhere with, do anything with, be myself with. I learned how to read people. I learned how to behave differently to get the "best response." It doesn't mean I stopped wanting that kind of friend. I always hoped that I would meet someone and we'd have that instant friend connection, and we two would make friends and eventually I would have a whole friend posse.

I got one, for a while. It ended badly, with hurt feelings and lots of tears. I had no control over the drama that happened. I watched it all, but I couldn't do anything. In the end, I ended the friendship to save myself from further heartbreak. It killed me that I had to do that. I felt like I ruined everything. I know I didn't, but you know how those pesky emotions are. I found and lost my best friends in less than a year.

When college happened, I was pessimistic. I just knew I was going to be alone again. It seemed like everyone in my department was already best friends by the first month of school. I was left out again. It doesn't help that I'm a pretty awkward and shy person.

Thus far, friendship in college has fluctuated. Sometimes I'm best buds with everyone and having a great time. Sometimes they're all doing things without me and I'm left alone. Of course, I always see it as more alone than together, being who I am. The lonely times weigh on me so much.

I pray that I'm able to appreciate the friendly times. I pray that the lonely times will pass over me, that I remember that they're temporary. I pray that I include rather than exclude.

I'm so grateful for my constant friends I have now, even if we're not extremely close. I still long for a best friend, but my constant friends have been a rock for me, always there, always steady, always willing to listen to me complain about school or work or life. I'm so thankful for what I already have.

I pray that I will be content with where I am.