Wrangler Dani

My friends are all telling me: “how can you not like change? You’re so adventurous!”

To which I retort that they’ve clearly never seen me on a balance beam or going downhill quickly. (Both scare me. A lot.)

You know what else scares me? Well, I’ll tell you. The hubs and I are going to be embarking on a new adventure soon (more details to come) and I’m digging in with my fingernails, clawing at the people I love, trying to get them to promise me that they’ll care about my upheaval.

High school was a weird time for me – I was sharing one room with my entire family and basically had one day a week to see or make friends, so when I went to college I wasn’t very well-versed in how to do so. So I was awkward and homely and quiet and blunt and easily overwhelmed and very behind on pop culture and wearing Wranglers and a flannel shirt – but, for some reason, I still made friends. They were (are) the best. Since then, I’ve made more awesome friends, and been overwhelmed to realize that my heart could actually hold more amazing people.

As I’ve moved and, more importantly, as life has moved and caused relationships to change and morph, I find myself in minor panic attacks every time I think a friendship might alter in any way.

About a week after Adam and I got engaged, I actually cried about how my life with my single ladies would change – I totally wish I was lying. I still find myself trying to hang on to people, because I think that I believe that I’m the convenient friend. I’m the friend who makes a good Crock-Pot meal and is easygoing. I’m the do-anything, go-anywhere friend. So I fear that’s my only trait – that I’m only loved because I say yes. “Yes” is part of my personality, and not something I want to change – it’s a gift and a joy to be free and easy with my yesses – but there is a fear lurking there. What happens if the time comes that I can’t say yes? When a change rolls in that affects my ability to pick up and come over, to make a meal for a friend, to spend the afternoon running errands or gabbing about chick lit or snatching a latte with someone I care about – what then? I fear being forgotten, or, worse, realizing that I was worth forgetting, and never all that crucial in the first place.

I’m the inviter, the “yes” friend, the one with the stocked fridge and the man food and easy opportunities to hang out. I know that’s not the only reason I have friends – but there’s part of me that wonders – what will happen when I can’t fill that role anymore? Will anyone invite or say yes to me?