Monday, March 07, 2011


I do believe I have been unfriended.

For those of you perhaps unfamiliar with the term, "unfriending" is a Facebook term. It's a command used when you have decided to drop someone from your "friend list."

I should clarify that I have not, I think, actually had someone drop me from their Facebook "friend" list. Or if someone should have had the good sense to do so, I have been sublimely ignorant of it.

No, I have been unfriended rather differently, it seems. The particulars of the situation relate to the divorce, and I should think it unseemly to go into the details. Suffice it to say that this person was better friends with my ex-wife than with me, and now no longer desires to be in my company.

I must say that, as someone trained from a very early age to be nice, to be careful, to avoid doing things that could provoke someone's anger...being unfriended is a bit emotionally jarring. My mind reels with thoughts that I had somehow done something wrong, and my heart stabs with a kind of panic at the thought.

And yet...I have done nothing more to this particular individual than to divorce their friend. And I tend to think that the divorce itself happened with some modicum of dignity and respect. So I am left to believe that this person's reaction to me has more to do with their loyalty to my ex-wife than to anything in particular I have done.

In an odd way, I almost admire loyalty like that.

But what strikes me most about this situation is that it represents an old and deep fear of mine, the idea of being rejected for no particular reason that I could control. And in facing this situation, in embracing my reactions, I find that there is some pain, some fear, some anger, some odd and lingering sense of dread.

And that is all.

Mind you, it is not a comfortable experience, and certainly not one I would recommend. But facing it, I realize that it actually holds little power. It is not so terrifying as I imagined it could be in the sixth or seventh grade, when such concerns plagued my young mind.

I can face this, open myself to it, accept it fully. I can be curious and accepting of the experience. And maybe doing that is a pathway to growth.

I am reminded of the lyrics by Ms. Alanis Morissette: "Thank you India/Thank you terror/Thank you disillusionment/Thank you frailty/Thank you consequence/Thank you, thank you, silence."

Peace to you, my friends. And also to my "unfriend."