Searching for my soul sisters

You’re not the only one without friends

Do you feel like you’re the only girl in the world that doesn’t have a group of girlfriends who are besties and do everything together? You’re not alone. Finding a group of amazing women, or someone to call “best friend” has been one of the greatest struggles of my life. Truthfully, I am embarrassed to admit I’m 27 years old and don’t have any women in my day-to-day life I can call a great friend, let alone multiple. I have one girlfriend I adore and love, but our connection is limited by proximity. Girls are always seen in TV shows as inseparable besties, or in big groups on a bachelorette trip who never seem to have any drama. The rest of us who don’t have our “tribe” are left feeling isolated with a deep sense of abandonment. It’s the feeling of grabbing your phone and having no one to text. It’s watching women on Instagram doing life together feeling like an outsider. It’s laying in bed thinking “If I got married today, I literally don’t have anyone to stand by my side at my wedding”.

What does the loneliness really feel like?

Loneliness is an epidemic and has been an increasingly prevalent issue for some time now. The problem is not the lack of people or ability to reach out to people. We live in the most “connected” time in human history. So why do so many women feel the same way? The loneliness you feel I would guess is a specific, hollow kind of isolation. It’s the kind of loneliness you feel when you are desperate for someone to see behind your mask but are welcomed by the same surface level conversations stripped of soul and depth. It is the kind of loneliness felt when your dad is battling cancer and a cry for help is met with blanket statements like “I’ll add you to the prayer list”. It’s f*cking exhausting coming up with an answer for your thoughts on the latest Spider-Man movie when deep down you want someone to ask you why a jar of peanut butter is the snack you grab when you’re stressed or why you have to listen to animal planet with David Attenborough to fall asleep.

Surface level friendships to me have always been a relationship I struggle to maintain. It feels fake. It feels shallow. Honestly, it feels like a waste of time. I love people who overshare because I would rather hear about how you can’t stop picking your acne than be asked what my weekend plans are one more time. I desperately crave raw and real connections and I’m starting to learn what real friendship requires. It requires the kind of women who show up in your grief, who will sit with you in silence when your life is falling apart. The kind of women who remember how many pumps of sweetener is one too many in your coffee, who celebrate you without dimming their own light, who push you to show off your amazing rack because we’re only young once. These kinds of women exist, but they are rare because it requires vulnerability, showing up when there’s no glory involved, asking for help, and the willingness to be disappointed.

I’m striving to be this kind of woman. Perhaps I’m already some of it, and perhaps I’m still learning. Maybe that’s exactly why we need each other.

What I am learning about myself through loneliness

“How can I belong while staying authentically true to myself?”. I have repeatedly asked myself this question this year and I wish I had an answer. I will say that being alone is far less lonely than being surrounded by the wrong people (story for another day). What I have learned through the loneliest few years of my life is I am the type of person who loves to be needed, but I don’t care to be needy. Which honestly, is selfish. Have you ever felt like you needed someone more than they needed you? This leaves space for doubt and insecurity to manifest. Your friends want to feel needed too. When two people depend on each other, that is where bonds begin to grow. How special do you feel when a friend calls you for advice on a problem they are faced with? Your friends want to feel like you need them just as much as they need you. Hyper independence is not a good thing. It’s a response to your brain being placed in survival mode.

I learned to be this way through trauma and failed relationships/friendships. My ability to be vulnerable with others has been left shattered over the years and I built a fortress to hide behind as a result. This has left me as a shell of who I once was, fearing that someone may see me for who I really am. I don’t cackle around people or ask for cute pictures in public anymore. Deep down I desperately want to be known, seen and loved, but how can I be seen when I refuse to come out of the shadows?

Somewhere between the lines of becoming little miss “I can do it myself”, I’ve lost my ability to slow down, ask for help, and deeply connect with other women.

Beauty in the unconventional

I’ve had the privilege of travelling to a few places around the world and one thing I’ve noticed is that other countries have a deep sense of belonging and connectedness. The women have this beautiful instinct to pour into the cups of others yet possess the courage to hold up their cup when it is empty.

In Japan they have what’s called an “onsen”. This is a public hot bath/spring, designed to be a safe space where women gather to unwind, wash and soak together. I know bathing “together” will turn some people off, but there is something incredibly beautiful and healing about taking care of your own body with your own hands. I wish I could describe the comically freeing feeling of walking around with a bunch of strangers equally butt-naked. It is profoundly restorative to devote hours tending to your body and witnessing women’s bodies in all stages of life.

Are you closing your own doors to friendship?

Have you ever been with a group of girls and thought to yourself, “Wait, this feels like a competition”. When I was in high school, I can count on two hands the days I wasn’t in bummy athletic/comfy clothes. I remember seeing girls fully put together looking runway ready at 7:30am. I would say things to people like, “I would never wake up early just to do my makeup and hair”. Yikes. Deep down I was jealous of the girls who knew how to do those things because I grew up surrounded by boys and athletes. Instead of choosing to be vulnerable and asking one of those girls for help, I put them down to compensate for my insecurity. Who knows what kind of friendship could’ve blossomed from a simple complement and advice in an area I wasn’t knowledgeable in. Almost 10 years later and I still can’t get eyeliner to look right. What moments are you choosing to put someone else down instead of opening the door of curiosity and a possible friendship?

Conclusion

When you’re all alone and you find someone else who is also alone, suddenly in an instant you feel a sense of togetherness. This is what I am hoping for with this post. I don’t have it all figured out, but what I do know is there are other women who feel just like me.

Some of us are talkers, others are listeners. Some of us are great at putting thrifted outfits together, others buy full outfits off a mannequin. Some of us can cook, others know the best ramen spot in town. Women were not meant to all be the same and we are better off that way. There is no competition. The more of us that realize this, the more profound our friendships will become.

If any of this was relatable, I would LOVE to hear your story, your thoughts and connect. Shoot me an Instagram DM @its.ellie.marie. Your sisters are out there. I’m looking for mine too. Let’s find each other, let’s figure this out together. All love

Xoxo,

Ellie

Instagram: its.ellie.marie