Welcome, my friend!
This week, I want to talk about relationships, and the purpose they serve. Doing so will require me to tell a story. Shame, I know.
I recently accepted a management position at my job, which made me really nervous. Before coming to this employer, I'd been at a different employer, working in an extremely toxic environment for far too long—eight years, to be exact, which was seven and a half years too long. When I left there, I swore I'd never take a management position again. And yet...here we are.
I thought today's post was going to be about how my new position is so different from my management position at the last employer; how listening to Spirit can help guide your life. But, that just goes to show that what the human/ego part of me has in mind is not what is meant for this blog. In case you can't tell, this happens frequently. That's why I'm always sure to ground and open to the guidance before I start writing. Because, honestly? If it were up to me, and me alone, I probably wouldn't write this blog at all. But, Spirit wants these messages out there...so here I am.
What Spirit does want me to talk about, is an experience I had even further back in my past, but also in the management realm.
You ever hear that saying, "You'll have friends for a season, a reason, or life"?
This is totally a thing and has quite a bit to do with the reason YOU are here. Your life plan and purpose, the lessons you are here to learn, as well as the life contracts you have with people. Kim Russo does a fantastic job of explaining this in her book, The Happy Medium. I hope you'll give it a read. Now, sometimes your interactions with a person have more to do with them, than with you. What I mean is, sometimes it is more about what you can teach them.
Oh, sure, it won't be some obvious thing where you're handed a lesson plan of material you're to deliver to that person. But, in hindsight, if you think about it, you'll realize that you were the one helping them. Often times, even in those situations, you'll still learn something yourself.
We'll use this scenario to explain the point I'm making:
Just as an FYI, I'm using fake names, for the people and the company; out of respect.
I had just been promoted to Manager at ABC Company. I am a certified medical coder in the medical billing field; have been for about 20 years now. Back then, I had just gotten certified, and was made Manager of a very tiny Coding Team. There were only three people on my team.
Within this company were two other Managers, Amy, who oversaw the Collectors, and Jenny, who oversaw the Chargers (the ones who entered the charges into the system).
Now, everyone in the company knew that Amy and Jenny were lifelong friends. As in, they grew up together, had their first job at Baskin Robins when they turned sixteen. They were very close. But everyone also knew that they had some kind of falling out. Perhaps other people in the company knew what the falling out was over, but I did not. I still don't.
Now, being a new Manager, Jenny took me under her wing and we sort of became friends. It was nice at the time, we'd go to lunch together and we'd cover for each other if one needed a day off. We began to hang out outside of work, here and there. Our husbands seemed to get along, well enough, and we had kids the same age that enjoyed playing together. We got to a point where she threw me my baby shower when I was pregnant with my daughter.
But, she never talked about Amy. Never told me what happened between them. Occasionally, her son would mention her, or talk about something they used to do together. But Jenny never would.
As time went on, I got more and more uncomfortable with the situation. I noticed that Jenny was increasingly cold and...nasty...to Amy when we were at work. It started to feel as though Jenny was only being friends with me so that she could flaunt it in Amy's face.
Around this same time, I started having this overwhelming urge to talk to Amy. I kept hearing that I should talk to her about my mom. At this point, my mom had been gone about four or five years. I still was not "open" with my abilities, and hadn't fully accepted them myself. But when I say that 'I kept hearing that I should talk to her about my mom', what I mean is that when I'd have the urge to talk to Amy, and then I'd wonder what the hell we'd talk about, a thought, clear as day, would pop in my head: I'll tell her about my mom.
I hesitated for very long time. Probably more than a month, if I'm honest. I still feel bad about that.
Finally, one day at work, I was so distracted by these urges and thoughts, and the internal argument that Amy didn't even like me so why would she want to hear about my mom dying. I probably didn't get anything accomplished the whole morning. Finally, I just did it.
I walked up to Amy at her desk and said, "Is this a bad time?"
"No, what's up?" Her aloofness indicated that she assumed it was work related, and she would tolerate me only as long as she had to.
"I won't take much of your time, but I had to come talk to you for a minute." She raised an eyebrow at that. I took a deep breath and plunged on. "I'm not here to get involved, or get in the middle, and I certainly don't want you to tell me any details. I'm not looking for gossip. I just want you to listen for a minute."
When she gave a tiny nod, her shoulders losing just a fraction of her pent up hostility, I continued, "I don't know what happened between you and Jenny. I don't want to know what happened between you and Jenny. What I do know is that you two were really close for a very long time. And from where I stand, you are both miserable without each other. Now, I don't know if you know anything about me, but I want to tell you about my mom." I tried, in vain to keep the hitch in my voice under control at that last bit.
Amy was still guarded, but definitely less hostile. I picked up my monologue, "My mother and I were always close, but had sort of a rocky relationship. She died in 2000—"
Amy cut me off. "I'm so sorry, Alain. I had no idea. What happened?"
"She was a victim of domestic violence." That was the nicest way I could say that she'd been murdered. "Her boyfriend...strangled her. There's more to the story, but..."
"Oh, my God! That's horrible. Is he in jail now?"
"Yes, for a long time. But, what I wanted to tell you, was that just before she died, my mom and I were, more or less, not speaking. My reasons for having being upset with her, and having less contact with her, were very valid. But, in hindsight? I wish that I'd told her how much I love her. I wish that I'd had a chance to tell her that I forgive her."
Amy was no longer guarded and her hostility had vanished. By this point, we were both teary eyed. "Oh, no. I can't imagine."
"Neither did I. She was here one day. We had plans to meet up in the morning, but that never came." I sniffled and got to the point. "I didn't know why it was important that I tell you about my mom. But, now, I think it was to share with you an example of how something can change so suddenly. And then they are gone. Just gone. So, whatever it is that happened between you two, ask yourself how you would feel if she was gone tomorrow. Is it worth it? Is being hurt and upset going to change anything?"
By now, we were both full on crying, and getting a few side-eye looks from people passing by.
"I don't even know if she'll talk to me."
"And you won't, if you never try. But if you do try, and she doesn't, then you know that you did all you could to make things right. And, if you do try, and she does talk to you, then you might just get your best friend back." I gave her a watery smile.
"I don't know if it's that simple. I'd like it to be, but it's up to her." Amy sighed, then looked at me. "I don't know what possessed you to come talk to me, but I'm glad you did."
And then, she hugged me! Shocked the shit out of me...my eyes were probably big as saucers!
After I left Amy's desk, I went straight to Jenny's desk. I knew that some of our co-workers had seen Amy and I talking—and crying—and when it got back to Jenny, which, let's face it, office gossip? It was only a matter of time. Anyway, I didn't want anymore drama. I wanted Jenny to hear it from me first.
When I got to Jenny's desk, it was obvious that she knew Amy and I had been talking. It was also clear that she assumed we were gossiping about her. Which was just stupid, let's be real. What were we, in high school? FFS. Anyway, I said, "You gotta sec?"
"Sure," was the nonchalant reply.
"I'm sure you've heard by now that I was talking to Amy..." She gave a small shrug to neither confirm nor deny this. "...and I wanted you to hear it from me directly. I went to her. I wasn't trying to gossip or get in the middle. I didn't ask her for details about whatever the hell is going on between you two. I just asked her to listen to me. Then I told her about how my mom died." Jenny was already quite familiar with the ins and outs of the story. "I told her that I know the two of you were really close for a long time and that it's obvious that you two are miserable without each other. I said that she should think about whatever it is that started all this and whether it's worth losing a friendship over." I took a big breath and plowed on, anxious for this to just be over. "I said that you can lose someone in the blink of an eye, and how would she feel if you were gone tomorrow, with all of this unresolved crap between you two."
Jenny blinked like an owl, her mouth a small little 'O'. I delivered my final piece of advice, "Personally, I think you should do the same, because relationships are two way streets. If the relationship is over, fine. But if it's not, then think about the way you're treating her, and whether that's really fair. I don't know if she'll come to talk to you or not, but if she does, you might want to listen. And if she doesn't, then think about going to her. Real friendships are hard to find. Don't throw this one away by mistake."
I turned around and went back to my desk. After that I was finally able to get some work done. I no longer had any strong urges to talk to anyone about anything, thank God. I also didn't go to lunch with Jenny that day. I stayed at my desk and did my own thing. I was done being social for the day.
After that day—I'm not sure how long after—Amy and Jenny started talking again. I know that Amy approached Jenny and that it was stiff at first. But there were apologies from both ends. Then, they started seeing each other outside of work, again, and hanging out constantly, just like they used to.
I can't remember if this went on for a couple of weeks, or a couple of months. Obviously, during this time, Jenny and I didn't have a whole lot of contact, having sort of drifted apart a bit. But then...
Amy was killed. She was in a car accident, t-boned by another driver.
The whole office was devastated and shocked. We closed the office for her funeral services. Everyone was a mess. Jenny held it together better than I thought she would. I was a mess, myself, wondering if I did the right thing or just made dealing with Amy's loss harder for Jenny; whether I wasted too much time before approaching Amy in the first place.
A few days after the funeral, I went to the site of the accident, and pulled off on the side of the road. The location was on my way home—if I took a different route. I didn't set out to take that route, I just remember ending up there. I walked to the spot where her car had ended up. I could see so clearly in my head her car being hit and her dying on impact, so fast that she never saw it coming, never felt a thing. I didn't understand at the time that this was happening in my mind's eye, that my belief that she never saw it or felt it was actually a digital download of what actually happened. I assumed that those were just my imaginings of what it must have been. I've grown a lot since then.
Standing in the spot where her car was found, with traffic rushing by, I felt a sense of peace and calm. I began crying, gently, and spoke out loud. "I'm so sorry, Amy. I never meant to bring you two back together, only to have it taken away so soon. Maybe I should have just left things alone."
Just then, more butterflies that I could have ever imagined took flight from the grass where I was standing. They were everywhere. I was shocked—how could I have walked through and past all of them without startling them into flight? I had no idea they'd been there at all, let alone so many of them. One landed on my right shoulder and another on my right hand. They stayed for a moment, and then they flew away, too.
After that, I knew that I had done the right thing, talking to Amy and Jenny. I also knew that I didn't bring them back together, they did that themselves. They put the work in, and approached each other with open hearts.
After Amy died, Jenny and I went back to hanging out, outside of work. But it was never quite right. Our friendship mostly drifted away and then we had a falling out of our own. I had just discovered I was pregnant with my youngest son and called to tell her. It was exceptionally exciting for me, because this was the only pregnancy we didn't have to "try" for. In my previous pregnancies, it took many months of trying before I'd actually get pregnant. So, with this one, I was happily surprised. But, before I could tell her, she told me that she and her husband had just decided to have another baby. I was excited, thinking she'd be happy for me and we'd be able to be pregnant at the same time—sharing our highs and lows together. She saw things differently. She felt that I was trying to "steal her thunder". We haven't spoken since.
I don't feel any great urge to rekindle that friendship.
I'm certain that the lessons we were meant to learn were delivered already, and the purpose of the relationship has been served.
Whether she is happy or grateful that I meddled in her relationship with Amy, I don't know. But, from that experience, I learned that all relationships have a purpose.
My relationship with Amy, albeit short, served to teach me about my abilities. Granted, it took me years to understand the lesson. But, indeed, a powerful lesson.
My relationship with Jenny taught me that sometimes, in a relationship, we teach. And sometimes we learn. I am told that I taught her to hold on to the things that are truly important to her—because you never know when they'll be gone. And she taught me the same. But also, that when the purpose has been served—whether it lasts a season, a day, or a lifetime—it's all right to let it go.
So, as you go about your day, take some time to think about the relationships in your life. Has their purpose been served? Have the lessons been learned? Are there benefits to having these relationships in your life? Are you holding onto relationships that would be better let go?
You have permission to send these relationships off with light and love. If you are keeping them, make sure you do so with an open heart, from a place of love. If you do this, all things will go as they are supposed to.
I hope you found this post helpful. Light and love to you and yours, my friend!
I look forward to hearing from you soon, either on this post, on Instagram, or on Twitter.
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