That's not my suitcase!

Why is it that we have some friends who make us feel good about ourselves, and then we have other friends who always tend to bring us down? And just like a marriage, for better or for worse, we hang in there with the downers for as long as possible. Faithful until the end. These days, many friendships outlast marriages. This makes me wonder...do I make my friends feel good about themselves? Or am I a downer friend? After all, I’m opinionated, pragmatic, and if you ask me a question, I generally tell the truth…as I believe it to be. On the plus side, this means that I will always tell my friends when their mascara is smeared or if they have a poppy seed or a piece of spinach in their teeth. But honesty is not always popular, and sometimes difficult to maintain—especially when a friend is going through a rough time.

When friends have a problem, they generally want you to tell them only what they want to hear—and that’s usually what you do, because you don’t want to cause them more pain. Is this really being a good friend? Or is it just a temporary fix that allows them to feel good, or better, about themselves in the short term? Will this type of "friendship" allow them to grow and learn from past mistakes? Or will a pattern develop that they’re destined to repeat?

One friend easily comes to mind, as she's been married several times. I've suffered along with her through every break-up to the point that I have often brought her issues into my own home. And I can always tell when she's headed for another divorce. I find myself analyzing my own relationship, and letting things bother me that I’ve never had problems with before. And as my friend looks into the mirror and laments that she’s too old and that no one will ever love her again, I start checking out the fine lines beginning to appear around my eyes. Within days, my previously healthy homelife becomes strained from this friend's misplaced emotional baggage.

Three times must be the charm for me—or perhaps I’m just a slow learner. I can read the writing on the wall (or should I say property settlement) for this friend’s latest marriage. It seems that I‘ve finally learned to recognize the negative signs, and am distancing myself emotionally from her relationship woes. Does this mean that I’m not a good friend? She hasn’t even noticed my emotional absence. After all, I’m still here for her—I just don’t jump on her bandwagon quite so enthusiastically and suffer every injustice she feels has been thrust upon her yet again. And, as she vents, cries and genuinely grieves, the fact that my own chest does not tighten up in indignation for her situation allows me to think more clearly. I offer her counsel that is based more on reason than emotion. I wasn’t truthful with her in the past, and this hurt us both. I used to tell her exactly what she wanted to hear—that she was right and he was wrong in every situation. Now, I cautiously give advice that may not be what she wants to hear, but might help her from repeating past mistakes.

You’ve heard the saying, "it takes two to tango." Trust me, this friend has tangoed with the same guy over and over again for years. Their names may be different, but they look, sound, act and think exactly alike. Perhaps my new approach will help her find a different type of guy—one that is better suited for her. Or maybe she'll just think of me as a “downer” friend. But maybe, just maybe my new approach will allow me to truly help a friend in need, while leaving her emotional baggage at her doorstep, not mine. After all, that’s not my suitcase—I already have a full set of my very own western-tooled leather luggage that my husband brought home, another bright orange set my mother gave me when I was a teenager, and an overnight bag my brother left here about four years ago. All this baggage is mine—and sure to be a topic for another day!

© 2005 Teresa G. Franta