Over the past week, I’ve entertained two separate groups of friends who’ve come into town. I’ve known these people in excess of 20 years, and I was very happy to host them and talk with them and all of that. But I understood a thing.

I’ve had issues with friends and friendship in the early part of my life. Desperate to be liked, I extended myself in ways that wasn’t who I was, or made me feel a kind of way later. I anguished over a cross word or an ignored phone call; wondering what I had done and willing to go to any lengths to right things. I wanted to be liked in the worst way.

I made friends as I went, and as the natural ebb and flow of life went, I gained friends and lost them. I tried to cultivate those I made and keep the ones I had. As my notion of self improved, though, the issue of friendship was still the source of depression and worry.

What the past week showed me, though, was not that some friendships, some relationships, naturally flicker out, either over time or suddenly. I’m just now coming to terms with the two-sidedness of them.

Sure, I should have KNOWN that. It takes two to tango, of course. But I couldn’t understand what else I’d have to do to make the relationship work. I thought it was all on me; as long as I was the best me, or whatever they thought the best me was, that the friendship would continue. Needless to say, quite a few people took advantage of that, and even though I was wronged, I couldn’t help to think I had done something wrong.

Anyway, I saw two groups of people in the last week that had a unique characteristic: they actually liked me. I didn’t have to perform. I didn’t have to bend over backwards. I was happy to see them, but they were actually happy to see ME. You know how good that feels? You know how it feels to have finally figured out the code?

I wish teenage me could have learned that lesson those years ago. Young adult me would have made different choices. Older me would have let some people go earlier before they had me doubting my worth.