After less than a year living in Seattle I’ve accumulated more legit friends than I’ve ever had at one time. My lone wolfish quality makes it hard to keep more than one friend at a time. Especially since most of my friends are from such radically different areas of my life. My birthday parties usually involve half a dozen people that look more like a jury than a party. Fortunately my friends tend to be more open-minded and accepting than average humans. The best part about me is the people I know. 

Last night, I got a chance to hang out with a veritable group of people whom I can call acquaintances. Two or three are even good friends at this point. In my time around boyfriends I have encountered groups of people with a family-like dynamic. I never quite felt like a part of those groups as I was only tolerated by association. In each of the tribes I found one or two kind, patient individuals and they are the ones I could call friends. Most of those connections died out with separation from the boy-in-question.

My marriage lasted nearly eight years and in that amount of time I found some true friends – most notably my ex-husband. I endeared myself to a few other people, most of whom have more faith in me than I do. These stalwart pioneers are the only reason I didn’t devolve into complete insanity when I broke. Their reminders of what is truly important often encouraged my flagging spirit during dark times. Friends using a few words to refocus my energy and help me feel less alone.

Finally escaping my hometown offered a proverbial fresh start. After multiple ups and downs, I can confidently declare the metamorphosis successful. I’m not the same person that left Tennessee. The only wisdom I consistently wield is willingness to learn and I temper that with good, old-fashioned kindness. Just as awkward and tactless as before, I simply have no qualms accepting my flaws. Sheathed in genuine intentions, I brush off haters with relative ease.

If anything, my legendary ability to say the wrong thing seems to work in my favor these days. The people that appreciate honesty are much easier to find in Seattle. The dark and morbid isn’t an automatic turn-off for people that choose to live here. An introvert’s paradise, I can luxuriate in solitude in the middle a major city. The delicate balance between introversion and isolation remains a challenge but I find empathy in every other corner. I like myself more for living here and I think it shows.

Trusting people is like getting used to a hot bath. The first foot to hit water is so cold the hot water makes it feel like my skin might melt. Holding still, taking deep breaths, I slowly work through the discomfort. The second foot also burns but not quite as much for not quite as long. As I submerge each part of my body a sting registers in each nerve, “Be careful! This might be dangerous!” Trust, like hot water, gets easier the more of it you are exposed to. Eventually the potential discomfort is outweighed by comfortable warmth enveloping most of my body. Even if I get burned by some rogue boiling liquid somewhere down the line, overall I know the heat won’t kill me. Cold loneliness might.