My Only Friend Is Me?
In this four part series, Good Men Project columnist, Taylor García explores the male loneliness epidemic, and how we might make better connections with ourselves, and others
I’m no stranger to loneliness. I moved to the West Coast in 2000, the bed of my truck filled with books, clothes, some personal effects, and a full-size box spring and mattress. I knew only my cousin and her family. Other than that, I had no friends or a significant other in my new city. It was a tough, lonely start.
The first few months, I found myself driving to LA almost every weekend to spend time with one of my best friends from college and his new group of friends. Where Jerome made lots of friends of varied backgrounds with ease, I was always reserved and somewhat shy. I’ve always taken a deliberate approach to seeking and keeping friends.
If anything, my loneliness was self-imposed. I actually liked being on the solo, and still do, and so my friend groups have always been generally small.
Over time, I’ve improved my friend-making skills, and I’m happy with the small circle of friends, colleagues, and confidants I have. Granted, many are not in my immediate vicinity, but I do feel connected and know that I can call those pals anytime.
Do I still get lonely? Sure. There are plenty of times when I long to be out with the guys or a group of co-workers or old friends. I have my wife and kids, but sometimes, they don’t satisfy the need for social, non-caregiver bonds that men need.
As CNN contributor and author Shannon Carpenter recently wrote, the so-called loneliness epidemic does not mean that we lack friends or people in our lives; instead, it’s a deficiency in meaningful connections. Carpenter references the work of psychologist, Dr. Frank Sileo, whose research spanning 30 years reveals that men often misperceive developing deep friendships with other men as not masculine. Further, boys and men aren’t naturally emotionally disconnected; it’s a phenomenon that develops over time due to socialization, and the aforementioned preconceptions about friendships themselves.
What I’ve learned about loneliness and developing friendships is that it’s a two-part deal. First, I’ve come to understand that being alone doesn’t necessarily equate to loneliness, and that I need to be my own friend first. Second, once I figured out that I can be who I am, I can then open myself up to making friends.
Both of those require one key ingredient: vulnerability. And vulnerability tends to be a challenge for men. We are socialized to be tough guys, to bottle everything up, and to play the lone wolf.
In my quest to make more meaningful connections, I’ve found that showing my fellow man that I’m willing to share what’s on my mind (and not the surface nonsense like sports, beer, chicks and the weather), I open space for them to share what’s on their mind. When we give ourselves permission to share, we give others permission to share.
Granted, it takes time and trust-building to share anything that’s deep in your heart and soul. Opening those parts of ourselves is one of the toughest things we can do, not only for ourselves, but others.
Yet, men are made for challenges. We’re made for facing adversity and showing strength. What could be more manly than being open and vulnerable with another fellow man, who more than likely is experiencing the same kind of challenge you are?
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This Post is republished on Medium.
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Photo credit: Unsplash
