I get by with a little help from my friends

This is a call out post. 

This one is for the friends that have been there for me. Always. No matter the time or the day or the insignificance of my “dire” situation. The ones who allow me to coat their shirts with tears and hug me until I feel better. The friends who understand that sometimes I just need someone to listen and they do….for an obscene amount of time. My friends….some of the best people on earth.

From a young age I was annoyingly friendly.

If you would listen to me talk, you were automatically my friend. No one was safe from this game, as I ran around the playground looking for my next victim to play tag with me and push me on the swing.

I blame my mother for this quality, she could talk to a rock and the object would magically become so impressed by her way with small talk, it would spring alive and tell her its deepest secrets in twenty minutes. We’d always spend way too long in public because my mother had lived in our town her whole life and knew EVERYONE. Someone she went to college with, someone from our church and someone she worked with twenty odd years ago for three weeks would make their way toward us by the end of a 30 minute shopping trip.

My mother always encouraged me to ask kids to play and make new friends constantly, as if for the fear that one child may go friendless. I obliged quite easily, due to the fact that I had a short attention span and the t.v. could only keep me entertained for so long. Having someone to make up new games with, ride bikes with (only down my block and back so that my mom was in ear-shot) or someone who enjoyed singing horribly to spice girls with me won my heart.

This characteristic went with me throughout school. I had many friends from different friend groups around the school. This meant that when all my friends came together, hell broke loose because not everyone meshed quite well. I didn’t mind, I watched and wondered why it seemed so easy for me to care about all of these abstract, different people who couldn’t even stand each other.Because of this, many people have told me not to have so many close friends because you can’t possibly have lasting friendships with all of them and/or you can’t give everyone your undivided attention.

I agree, it is hard to give everyone the same amount of attention but that doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t be friends with them. Not everyone needs to be your best friend, but someone who can occasionally go out for coffee or catch up about life with isn’t too shabby either.

I feel like keeping connections with so many different people has made me more well rounded. I’ve been exposed to many different nationalities, cultures, sexualities,  traditions and mental/physical illnesses. From all of my friends, I’ve learned different things about the world around me. Honestly it’s made me adapt to the world around me so much easier.

I’ve become almost without judgement when it comes to differences because in each difference, lies a human being. This soul is more than its shell. This person is more than gay, more than catholic, more than black or white or indian or hispanic. This person is a beautiful, living, friend.

Friends that have helped me through the worst and best times in my life. Whether it is my best friend since kindergarten or the girl in my lecture that became a close friend for a semester….they have all impacted my life and who I am. I like the idea that we are a combination of everyone we have met because that means that I am this amazingly developed, socially aware and diverse human being. I’ve met amazing people and learned so much from them by just bulking up the courage to say hi.

So to my friends, I love you and never change. For the way that we are different brings us together and makes us whole. We grow and learn from one another….so thank you so much for letting me learn who you are, I hope from me….you may have learned something too.

— Missy ♥




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