Sometimes I feel like I’ve traded in my human friends for rock and tree and bird friends.
When we moved to a rural community during the pandemic, I knew that finding friends was going to take time, but I never could have predicted the effect of that pandemic on my social interactions, even years after we’re out of the mass quarantine phase.
I distinctly remember that lonely period during the first year or two. Even with my family who I really enjoy spending my days with, it still felt lonely. I knew that the loneliness was a result of moving and I felt that I had, in a way, invited that sense of loneliness. And I really had - I wanted space away from humans where I could spend more time with the rocks and trees and birds. So I leaned into that alongside my family and my dogs, and found a sort of peace without other humans friends for a time.
I was never nervous about leaving friendships behind: all of us have experienced the seasonality of friendship and know that the important people endure across time and space. I also knew that there were new people where we were headed - community doesn’t disappear in rural spaces, it’s just more spread apart. And my experience taught me that often rural communities are more intentional about the time they spend together because you have to plan ahead. It’s rare that you run into friends downtown or catch your neighbour running out the door. You have to make plans and I appreciate that kind of intentionality.
So I hunkered down to make friends with the trees and rocks and birds during the worst of the pandemic isolation.
I also discovered many many beautiful friends in the online world whom with I had many many amazing things in common. Online communities are built for this sort of thing and it was so cool to connect with folks across the world who were into things like anarchism and dismantling power structures and raising kids in a non-authoritative way.
The same happened for my kids. Online gaming provided an amazing option to connect with kids with similar interests in a safe way; both physically and emotionally safe. Online connections are done at your own pace, where you can be with friends when it suits you and also take space for yourself without offending anyone. This was ideal for my kids who enjoyed the ability to both connect and disconnect when feels got too big.
Coming out of the isolation period of the pandemic, I set about trying to connect with more local folks: I felt that I was spending too much time online and really wanted to find people to interact with and local projects where I could lend a hand and make a difference in my community. I was happy to meet people through my local farmer’s market, food co-op, and homeschool community. I found forest school programs for my youngest son and that helped me connect with some other folks in the area. Recently, I joined a local community focused around an alternative currency and tabled at a market: holy heck, did I ever feel like I had found my people!
Alas, finding community doesn’t always translate to finding friends, so my time is still mostly spent with rocks and trees and birds and, of course, my family.
I often tell people that I have pretty extreme social anxiety. When I have interactions with other people in real space or on the phone, even with people I know well, there’s a big lead up for me where I stress about how I will be perceived. Afterwards, I replay conversations in my head and think about all the things that I said the wrong way, who I might have offended, and whether those people will want to spend time together again. I often need a day to decompress if there’s been a lot of people or intense interaction.
The social anxiety part would suggest that this is “all in my head” but in the post-pandemic reality, I’ve found that often it’s not. I do offend people. I have said things the wrong way. People have mis-perceived my intentions. I rarely get invited to events. There are not many out there whom I would call friend.
I know I seem intimidating. I know that my politics are a big part of who I am. I have hard time not being a political person. I know that it’s often too much for people. The reality is that I live with this political analysis running through my head almost all the time. Yes, it’s exhausting. No, I don’t know how to make it stop. I try really hard at safe topic small talk when I’m with other people, but more often than not, I say something that offends someone in the spirit of exploring the topic together as opposed to being prescriptive which it how it is received. I stop getting text messages and invitations.
I don’t think I’m alone in this experience. I think as more of us feel compelled to explore the effects of our current socio-economic and political surroundings, especially while there’s an active genocide happening, we quietly butt heads with our friends and family in a way that wasn’t done before. We can see ourselves becoming more divisive and shying away from critical conversation, often silently launching labels at people we once genuinely cared for. “Anti-vaxer” “Liberal” “Ableist” “Alt Right”. Some of these labels stick and others don’t but the problem with them is that once they’ve been launched, the dialogue ends. We agree to disagree and dox or cancel or just avoid and ignore and go about our lives. It happens in real space and it happens online, usually because comments are taken without context and we never make space to fully explore the topics at hand.
I can’t help but feel like this is the wrong direction for what the world needs right now. In a growing culture of hyper individualism, we need to reconnect with each other. We need to talk and explore and comprehend. We need to dream and imagine and try to fix broken systems. We need to care for each other. We need to help one another. We need to feel safe within our communities. We need to carve out time and space to dive deep and explore - fuck the safe topic small talk.
I recognize that these types of interactions are intense and often hard and I don’t always have the space for them. And that’s okay. When I need a break, my rocks and trees and birds will still be there for me. My family will always be my foundation. But my hope is that the community will still be there, that my social anxiety will not hold me back, and that I will keep putting my authentic self out there into the world - unapologetically.
I relate to so much of this! I'm glad you found some community where you are, and I hope you find more that fills you. I am still looking locally, though we travel out of town regularly to meet up with people and places that meet my need for authentic connection (and those of my kids).
I relate to so much of this! Thanks for sharing.
I hate small talk. I’ve learnt to do it over the years but I’ll be honest, I find it tedious and boring! I’d much rather be real and have an interesting conversation, politics and all.
I feel that so much of what is considered ‘polite’ conversation is just lying to each other.