The Art of Showing Up

by Rachel Wilkerson Miller

  “I know some people in my situation find anecdotes like the one you just told me helpful, but I find them really stressful and scary. Could I ask you to not share stories like that with me in the future?”

  “To be honest, I’m not in a place where I’m ready to look at the positives of this situation just yet. I’m still really hurt and angry, and I just need to be hurt and angry for a while.”

  “I know you mean well when you say, ‘He’s in a better place,’ but that phrase isn’t helpful or comforting to me right now.”

  “Can I ask you to do me a favor and stop sending me articles about using crystals to treat cancer because ‘oncology is a scam’? These articles aren’t helpful to me and are kind of stressing me out.”

  And if it feels right, you can add something like:

  “What I do need right now is [a hug/the name of a good lawyer/someone to organize a meal train/not to talk about this when I’m at work].”

  In most of these situations, it’s best to focus on yourself and your preferences instead of criticizing the other person’s behavior. Because in a lot of instances, the person won’t have done something universally wrong; they will simply have done something that you don’t appreciate. You know what they say: One person’s “how essential oils cured my cancer” article from ­alternativehealingmooncircle.net is another person’s treasure!

  It might also make sense to ask a trusted third party to intervene on your behalf, particularly when you’re dealing with something really serious. That might sound something like this:

  “Hey, Ash, it is so incredibly kind of you to offer to sing at the memorial service on Saturday, but Kyle has reiterated to me a few times that the service is meant to be family only. The best thing you can do to be supportive right now is to respect their wishes.”

  If the person who is missing the mark is a close friend, you might want to be more direct and vulnerable—because not saying anything can do long-term damage to the friendship, and because you (presumably) do want and need their support in a different way right now. In that case, you might say something like this:

  “Shawn, my miscarriage has left me completely devastated. I’m angry and heartbroken and furious, and hearing you say ‘everything happens for a reason’ makes me feel the complete opposite of supported. Please don’t.”

  “I know you’re trying to cheer me up by telling me to focus on the positives of getting fired, but it’s actually coming across as dismissive because I’m still really upset. Can you please just be upset with me for a little while?”

  “Hey, I know you mean well by sending me these articles related to my diagnosis, but they are actually making me spiral the fuck out. I’d like to request a break from all cancer-related literature until further notice.”

  They might honor your request! They might not! But at least now you can feel less guilty about ignoring their daily affirmation DMs.

  How to Vent Responsibly

  When you’re going through a difficult time, venting can really help. Therapist Ryan Howes says that venting is really about processing. You haven’t come to any real conclusions yet; you just need to get your thoughts out of your head, and you need a warm body to listen. Venting tends to feel good; it helps us name what happened and give it a narrative structure, which is really powerful. But it’s also something that we can easily get lost in, draining our energy reserves and alienating the people who are listening to us in the process.

  If you’re worried about venting too much and exhausting your friends, here are some tips that might help.

  Let people ask you how you’re doing.

  When you’re dealing with a lot, it’s easy to blurt out the latest update to the first person you see without so much as a hello. If you’re worried about falling into that trap, consider holding off until someone actually says, “How are you?” or “How’s everything going with [situation]?” Being asked still isn’t a free pass to dump on them for the next three hours, but this is an easy way to keep your urge to unload in check, and to make sure your friends are interested in your latest download.

  Explicitly ask for permission to vent—even if you just want to vent via text.

  If you need a friend to lend an ear, consider requesting it in a more formal way. Scheduling time to talk or text about a specific topic isn’t silly; it’s courteous. As therapist Andrea Bonior says, “Texting lets us place something—immediately—into someone else’s consciousness, whether they want it there, and are adequately prepared to deal with it at the moment, or not.”24 Texting something like “When you have a moment, I’d love to talk with you about the latest in this Sam situation” or “If you’re around later and up for it, I’d like to scream about the Sam situation” will go a long way toward communicating respect for their time and energy. (And do be specific about what you want to discuss; just saying “Got a sec?” or “Are you busy?” isn’t cool.) It’s entirely likely they’ll respond, “I can talk now—what’s up?” but they’ll still appreciate that you asked.

  If you aren’t looking for advice, say so.

  In general, our loved ones want to be helpful and offer solutions to our problems . . . but jumping right to solutions can inadvertently communicate “I don’t want to hear about this anymore; I want to fix this so you’ll shut up about it”—which is maybe not what you want to hear in that moment. So if you know you simply need to vent, or that you aren’t in a place to consider what to do next, tell the other person that up front.

  Don’t outright reject all suggestions and attempts to problem-solve.

  This might seem at odds with what I said a second ago. And it kind of is! Here’s the thing: Wanting to vent and be validated is totally fine. But only venting, and shutting down whenever the conversation turns to the topic of possible solutions? Not so fine! It’s frustrating to listen to a friend talk endlessly about the same topic, particularly if they are refusing to acknowledge their part in the situation or do anything to feel better. Of course, sometimes there isn’t anything you can do to make things better. But at that point, talking about it for three hours isn’t really making it better either.

  Consider the forty-five-minute rule.

  A couples therapist once gave me this very good advice: If you’re having an argument or intense conversation, take a break after forty-five minutes. After the forty-five-minute mark, she said, people tend to be too emotionally exhausted to have a productive conversation; a twenty-minute break (at minimum!) can help everyone process and reset a bit. Putting this advice into practice made a huge difference, and I now try to apply it to any negative conversation. Aside from being good for the listener, it’s good for you, too. Because even if you aren’t arguing, you’re still depleting your energy (and probably starting to lose the thread of the conversation) when you vent for that long. So keep an eye on the clock, and remember: There’s a reason most therapy sessions are only fifty minutes long.

  Notice if you are repeating yourself.

  Ryan Howes says if you find yourself saying the same thing over and over again (or the person you’re talking to keeps responding in the exact same way), you miiiight be ruminating, which can be pretty tiresome for the other person. If you’re just cycling through the same few exchanges (“This is bad! I’m so mad!” “Ugh, I know! It’s so bad!”) and neither of you is bringing up new information or insight, consider wrapping it up soon. Of course, there are exceptions to this, and sometimes a situation is so terrible or tragic or unfixable that all you can do is repeat, “This happened and I’m so upset!” while your friend nods sympathetically and says “It’s awful; I’m so sorry.” But that shouldn’t be the norm in most conversations. So if you’re just rehashing the same points—or if your friend is looking/sounding bored—it might be time to call it quits.

  Try not to pre-vent.

  Pre-venting is when someone says, “I’ll tell you more about this tonight” . . . and then immediately launches into telling you now . . . and then still wants to discuss it in full when
you see them later that night. It’s a variation on repeating yourself, but it can be less obvious because some time passes between the initial conversation and the later one. But if you’ve already established you’re going to talk at not-now-o’clock, try to hold off on emotion-dumping before then. And if you do find yourself getting into the whole story (or, say, 75 percent of it) now, recognize that you don’t really need to rehash or repeat the same details later.

  Consider journaling.

  I wrote an entire book about journaling, so I admit I’m a bit biased, but the health benefits of journaling are well documented. Dumping your thoughts on a page allows you get everything out and helps you process what you’re experiencing. Set a timer for twenty minutes—any longer than that can actually lead to ruminating—and write freely, without worrying about punctuation, spelling, or the “quality” of the writing. Your writing doesn’t need to be “interesting” because no one is ever going to read it. (You don’t even have to reread it later!) You might find you feel a lot better overall, and that your urge to vent to a friend has mysteriously disappeared.

  Give your friend time and space to talk about their life.

  I’m of the belief that not every conversation with a friend has to be perfectly balanced in terms of who is talking and who is listening. We’ve all had days when we don’t have much to talk about and a friend has a lot going on, and we’re perfectly happy to listen while the friend vents, and then end the phone call there! It’s fine! But. But. If you only ever contact your friends to vent—or if your “How are you doing?” is perfunctory and communicates “I know this is the correct thing to say” instead of sincere interest—your pals are going to catch on. So be sure you’re leading with “How are you?” sometimes (before you’ve talked about yourself) . . . and actually listen and engage when they answer. And if you know you’re only going to hang out for an hour, remember to cut yourself off after twenty or thirty minutes so they have a chance to talk, too.

  Do Even Less

  You already know how much I believe in the importance of doing less. When your life is falling apart, might I suggest . . . doing even less? The good news about being in crisis is that you’re allowed to opt out of normal activities. You are allowed to cancel plans; to ask for an extension on a deadline; to take a day off; to cry unexpectedly; to not be your best self. When you’re feeling overwhelmed or guilty, remember: This is exactly why the phrase “family emergency” exists. The emergency is here; it’s yours and it’s happening right now. It’s easy to lose sight of this in the moment—to tell yourself that “real” trauma is something that happens to other people and not to you (especially if you don’t want to admit that what is happening is really, really bad).

  Instead of assuming you’ll be able to keep up with your life as normal, try starting with the opposite belief: that you’ll be able to do nothing. Don’t be surprised by the fact that you can do even less right now; rather, let yourself be shocked and proud when you can do anything. Lower your expectations, lower your standards, lower your bar. Do even less.

  Chapter 6

  How to Make Friends

  Making friends as an adult is hard. You could be forgiven for not expecting this, especially if you had a lot of close friends as a youth, or if you grew up believing that adulthood would resemble Friends or Sex and the City. But the reality is, having a tight/set friend group as an adult isn’t the reality for a lot of people, especially as more of us move farther away from our hometowns and colleges and relocate for work (often repeatedly).

  The good news is that you can do hard things, including make new friends! I say this as someone who has moved quite a bit in her adult life and who considers herself pretty decent at making new friends. In this chapter, we’ll talk about how many friends you actually need, how to find your people, how to talk to them, and how to connect with them in a more meaningful way.

  Before you jump into making friends headfirst, it’s worthwhile to think about what you’re looking for in new friends—and identify what you have to offer. I’ve found that when I don’t do this, I end up wasting TME getting to know people who aren’t ever going to be my people, or end up in friendships that aren’t actually that great for me. Or I’ll treat making friends as an all-or-nothing proposition and quickly burn out.

  By now, you should be well aware of your needs, your preferences, and your best qualities. From here, put some thought into what you are looking for in a friend—in terms of both personality and the connection. Here are some questions to ask yourself.

  What are your other friends like?

  Your established friendships provide a lot of data, and you can use that information to make better decisions about the people you let into your life. Think about your current friends and the friends you’ve had throughout your life. How are they similar to you? How are they different? Are they introverted or extroverted? What are their values? How would you describe their lifestyle and their brand of humor? How do they communicate? How do they handle conflict or difficulty? What first drew you to them? What surprised you about them? What do you think made your friendship work? If the friendship is now over, what went wrong? And what do you wish you’d done differently early on?

  What do you want and need in a friend?

  Do you want a new BFF, or just more casual friends? People you can do activities with? Someone you can confide in? Someone to travel the world with? Are you looking for friends who share your worldview or a particular life experience? Your immediate answer might be, “I don’t know, I just want friends?!?!” but try to get more specific, if possible.

  Where does making new friends fall in your list of priorities?

  Think about what’s taking up your TME these days. How important is making friends to you compared to, say, cooking at home, reading more, or spending time with family? It’s not that you have to definitively choose one or the other, but some days you might—and in those moments, it’s good to know exactly how much establishing new friendships really matters to you right now.

  What can you offer a friendship right now?

  Revisit the personal values you identified for yourself in Chapter 1. How do those shape what kind of friend you are? Also think about your strengths and weaknesses as a friend. Maybe you’re great at organizing and planning big group hangouts, or are the friend to call if someone needs help changing a tire, or packing boxes before a move, but are never available for spontaneous hangouts and take a week to text back. Figure out what makes you special and unique, what you’re not great at, and what, if anything, you want to improve or change going forward.

  I find this exercise useful because humans are often bad at articulating why we like or dislike certain things. For example, most of us would probably say we want friends who are funny, right? But “funny” is subjective; what we mean is that we want friends who make us laugh, who share our sense of humor, and who like the same funny things we do. It’s helpful to dig into what, specifically, is your jam, so you can start to identify the people you’re likely to connect with a little quicker.

  The “Right” Number of Friends

  You may have heard the term “Dunbar’s number” thrown around in the context of friendship. This number—150—comes from Robin Dunbar, a professor of evolutionary psychology at Oxford. According to his research on brain size and social groups, humans can only handle roughly 150 casual friendships at a time, and most of us have between 100 and 300 friends in our social circles.

  From there, our social circles tend to decrease in size by a factor of three, and the relationships become increasingly more intimate at these levels. So within that original 150, we’ll each have about 30 to 45 people we’d consider good friends (people you’d invite to a group dinner); 9 to 15 we consider close friends (people you can really confide in and turn to in times of need, and whose death, if it happened tomorrow, would seriously upset you); and roughly 3 to 5 people in our intimate support group. About 60 percent of our time and attention is spent on the 3
smallest groups (the 5/15/45).25

  With this in mind, it’s worth considering whether you actually need more friends, or whether you need closer friends. If you already have fifteen or twenty good friends, it might make the most sense to deepen your relationships with those people instead of trying to meet an entirely new best friend. Of course, that won’t always be an option, especially if you’ve just moved or if your social network is on the small side. But it’s good to remember that casual friends can and do turn into best friends.

  A Deep–Shallow Companion

  Regardless of how many friends researchers say you need or how many you currently have, my theory is that everyone needs one individual to fill the role of what I call your deep–shallow companion. This is the person who is willing to listen to you talk about the most humdrum shit about your day (aka your deep–shallow topics), pretty much every day (and then shares theirs in turn). They let you go on about the traffic you sat in, the errands you ran, the minutiae of your to-do list, or everything Sweetgreen did right or wrong with regard to your salad order. (My experiences with the Sweetgreen app are the epitome of deep–shallow talk.) Deep–shallow stories are both too boring and too complicated for most audiences. It’s not real drama but a five-act Shakespearean play, and it all took place in the self-checkout line at Target.

  Deep–shallow is the height of intimacy demonstrated through extremely not-intimate conversational topics. It’s a bond and love that is so deeply rooted it can withstand this particular type of shallow conversation. Of course, most relationships include the occasional deep–shallow talk; sometimes, the first coworker pal you see when you walk into the office is gonna hear your terrible commute story, whether they like it or not. But your deep–shallow person is the one who you talk like this with daily. It’s a role often filled by a parent, sibling, or romantic partner because it requires so much love.