Closed Off
Dear Siouxsie,
I was meeting a few people for the first time yesterday, and I realized that I’m totally unable to connect with others at first. I have a lot of hurt and pain from past friendships, and I never really connect with people, because I’m too scared to be vulnerable. The last time I was vulnerable, the people I trusted took advantage of me and ignored my feelings. I feel like I’m never going to be able to make new friends, much less open myself up to a romantic relationship. How do I stop being so closed off and unable to connect?
Sincerely,
Closed Off
Dear Closed Off,
The funny thing is that I was exactly where you are not that long ago, and many, many people have been exactly where you are. Past trauma, hurt, uncomfortable history, and toxic people make us all wary of being open to new ideas because people take advantage of that. Assuming the worst of someone is a defense mechanism, because you’ve been hurt before, and don’t want to feel those same horrible feelings again. I don’t blame you.
Let’s take it back to the roots of Siouxsie and overshare my personal experiences again! It’s good to be transparent. Anyways, I’ll tell you about my many, many terrible friendships. I was in therapy (as one does), and I’d kept mentioning my past shitty friendships to my therapist before she finally asked, “Who are you talking about when you say past bad friendships?” And so I started listing every friend who’d been just horrible to me over the course of my life. When I got to Shit Best Friend #7, she stopped me and said, “Okay, I think I’m getting the bigger picture. That’s… a lot of terrible friendships.” I wasn’t talking about my bad friends for pity, or for sympathy, I was talking about them because in order to truly understand someone, you need to understand their demons just as much as their best parts.
I used to have a friend- we’ll call her Naomi- who was one of those terrible friends. I was new-ish to my school, and didn’t know who to befriend. She was charismatic, sarcastic, charming, and artistic like me, and I thought she was pretty cool. But it was a slow burn of a painful end. She was negative, spoiled, complained, often ungrateful, and completely not self-aware. It was exhausting to be around her. Everything was made to be about her, and everything had to be tailored to her needs. Once, Naomi, me, and another friend were riding in a car back from an event, and my other friend was talking about a difficult experience she’d had and how it still impacted her life. Naomi took this as an opportunity to trivialize this girl’s genuinely traumatic experience and make it all about her far less impactful struggles. I was appalled. Finally, I made the decision to stand up to Naomi and told her, “I want to take a break from this relationship. I feel like you’re very negative, and I don’t feel comfortable around that kind of energy right now.” It was a big decision, and it was one of the few times I’d been brave enough to stand up to someone who’d made me and those around me uncomfortable. I’m sharing this story because I want you to know how much I know you’ve gone through, whether you were forced to stand up to your terrible friends or even just brave enough to break away from them slightly.
Toxic people are like poison, and we all take a sip every time we spend another day with them. It's the world's shittiest drinking game, and once the poison’s in you, it’s impossible to get it out. But here’s the thing: you can treat the poison like what it is: something that’s with you forever, and will alter you forever, or you can talk to yourself a little bit. If you let the toxicity hurt you, and take over your choices, you give in to the pain, and you’re causing yourself more hurt. I didn’t even realize how much hurt I was allowing myself to wallow in until I realized what I could do with all of this. I reflected on the people who’d hurt me, and tried to see what they’d taught me. I’m extremely self-aware in reaction to those who had no idea what they were doing to others. I often dislike drawing attention to myself because my best friends had done that for years and made me deeply uncomfortable about attention like that. The list goes on. So to me, the first step is trying to find the silver lining, or at least the lessons you were taught, however shitty the teacher.
Once I was a lot more comfortable with my past hurt and pain, I realized that I liked myself a lot more than I’d previously thought. Working on yourself is very rewarding because you learn to like yourself a lot more. I did a lot of this self-reflection during quarantine, so when I started to meet new people again, I realized how much I’d been holding back when being around people. I was a lot more comfortable around people because I was a lot more comfortable with myself. I also think you can trust yourself and your gut instinct when meeting people. If you feel yourself easing up, relaxing, and being a lot more around comfortable someone, maybe you can trust them with your true self. When you find the people who you can trust with the knowledge of your demons, you’ll know.
Give yourself time. It’s okay to feel the old boundaries of hurt, trauma, and pain, and it’s okay to obey them. You don’t have to be completely open about everything: sometimes, the things we’ve taken years to be at peace with can stay at rest. Spend time with yourself before you spend time with others. Sex Education is one of my favorite shows ever, and one of the character is talking about her fear of being creative again, but her boyfriend intervenes. “Fuck the fear,” he says simply, and walks away. Don’t be afraid to get in deep with your past. Fuck the fear of your past, of confronting that which hurt you, because it’s in the past. It stays in the past. But you have control now, and you can say “fuck the fear” and you can connect with others. Take your time, and take care of yourself. I believe in you.
Love and kisses,
Siouxsie