Friendship Changes

I didn’t sleep at all Wednesday night. After trying my sleeping rituals, breathing techniques, and prayer, I ended up reading blog posts to help drift off. I didn’t. Pain kept me awake, my mind was active, and my body wanted positions it can no longer rest in.

Despite leaving me exhausted yesterday, it did bring positives. After reading a post I wrote two months ago, I had a proper chat with God about mine and my parents’ friendships.

When I was little, my mum and dad had friends from work, hobbies, and general activities. They were always around our house. For birthdays, Mum didn’t just invite my friends. She invited her friends and their children, even when they were much older than me. I remember parties, BBQs, picnics, and events with these people.

Then something changed. Dad and Mum stopped the activities that connected them. We still got Christmas cards and bumped into them at shops, but the gatherings ended. I didn’t notice it then, but looking back I can see it clearly. It happened before I started Secondary School. I don’t know why and, without them here, these will be stories I won’t get answers for.

They could have drifted apart. It could have been age differences. My parents adopted us in their forties. Their friends had children in their early twenties who were then old enough to be my parents. It could have been interpersonal. Mum was strong willed, opinionated, and determined. Dad was inappropriate, sexist, and racist. I heard comments and rumours growing up that matched this. Something shifted and their friends stopped coming round.

It makes me question whether friendships slow down, change, and fade as you get older. Maybe there wasn’t any drama. Maybe it’s just something that happens.

I’ve always struggled with friendships and being disabled doesn't help them. Despite learning tricks, like laughing with everyone else when I don’t get it, ASD makes social situations difficult. I over communicate and send essay‑like responses with too much detail. I struggle with eye contact, physical closeness, reading expressions, and eating in front of others. I only do that with people I trust. My brain also moves differently, sometimes I interrupt, say the wrong thing at the wrong time or misjudge a moment.

FSHD complicates things too. My chair limits where I can go. Some friends find watching my degeneration hard. Travel takes longer. Socialising takes more energy. People ask how I am, but they want the polite, positive version, not the reality behind my disability. 

Despite these reasons, I don’t actually know why friendships fade. They just do. People who were present just disappear.

A lot of my friendships ended around covid, especially my closest ones. I don’t know why, but I haven’t had a close relationship since and miss having a best friend, confidant, and someone outside of Hannah to rely on. 

Part of that's my fault. I’ve put a guard up. I was mischaracterised, blamed, and shamed for having an “emotional affair” with my sibling‑like best friend fifteen years ago which shattered my already fragile marriage and made me wary of female friendships.

This made friendships harder. Childhood trauma shaped how I relate to and engage with men. Subsequently, I gravitated almost entirely towards girls at school, apart from one male friend who connected with me through shared intelligence, geeky interests, and the feeling of being out of place. He was my best man when I married the boys mum, but life shifted. He moved away, built a family, and our paths drifted. I’m lucky if I see him once a year now.

I received psychotherapy after my breakdown and divorce. This helped me understand more about how those early experiences shaped the way I form relationships. While I still sought female friendships, it also helped me build boundaries. I removed kisses from texts. I became more emotionally guarded with friends and open about who I talk to and how with my partner. I didn’t honour these things before. I learnt from that and acted better.

Over the last decade, that guard has grown. I had and then lost three close female friends. They vanished. I know my routine and ASD communication were difficult for them, but I don’t know what directly caused it. Communication slowed. Something shifted. Our friendship faded. It hurt deeply and left me protecting myself from being hurt again.

I know it’s not just me. Others struggle too. We’re not in our twenties going to pubs, clubs, or nights out. We’re not in our thirties seeking escape while our kids are little. We’re in our forties. A time where friendships fade, settle, or reshape. Just like they did for my parents.

I know that putting my guard up makes it difficult for anyone to get close, but I do get lonely. I also don’t make it easy because I enjoy having space to myself. I still struggle making friends with men, even if I've gained a few more male friendships over the years and am open to having more. Female friendships are still easier, but my guard is still up, never wanting to be in that situation again, as I love Hannah too much. It all makes friendships rather difficult though. 

Friendships change, people come and go, yet I’m still hopeful that some will grow into something steady, honest, and safe. My guard has been up for too long.