Who’s Pouring Into Me?
The last few weeks have been tumultuous for a lot of reasons. I am still desperately searching for a new employer. At the same time, my finances and living situation are in jeopardy. But this piece is less about those circumstances and more about an analysis of myself, my personality, and the people around me.
I am an Aquarius. We are lone wolves by nature. My friends notoriously don’t invite me to shit because I’m probably not going to show up. I definitely have some level of social anxiety. There are environments where I thrive (solo dates to museums, the movie theater, art exhibits, etc.) and places I do not care for… at all (networking events, parties, etc.). An introvert in the truest sense.
On socials, my connections are vast. I’ve been able to connect with people across the country and around the world. Some of these people I’ve met in real life; a plethora of others I will probably never cross paths with. But when I think about the idea of having a friend group or best friends, I’m truly not sure if I have either.
The one individual I truly considered and called my best friend and I had a falling out back in 2022. I also went through a heartbreaking breakup around the same time. I started therapy several months after this period. One of my revelations during therapy was that, while I was healing and moving past those dynamics, I never considered “replacing” these people. I would eventually date a multitude of people during this time, but I never analyzed my friendships to see whether our bonds might evolve to fill this new open position.
Four years later, nothing has changed. I have always preferred the companionship and platonic connection I have with women over men (100% a trauma response tied to self-esteem issues from childhood, my teens, and young adulthood). Of the male friends I’ve maintained over the years, some are single and some are married. While we may share certain connections, we mostly operate in different lanes.
Another huge factor in all of this: I moved to North New Jersey in 2021. No get-together, no house party, no shindig. Just a somewhat obscure Instagram Story post showing the NYC skyline from my living room. I can probably count on one hand how many of my friends have actually visited my home. (Okay, I counted. It was actually six people.) So, in five years, I’ve had very little companionship in my home.
Now, part of this is my fault. I haven’t been one to extend invites consistently. An invitation is a kind gesture for them, but it means hours of self-imposed work for me: deep-cleaning the crib, figuring out what I’m cooking, and trying to be the best possible host. Also, any native New Yorker knows going to NJ is considered an excursion. Crossing state lines just for kee-keeing? On top of that, many of my women friends don’t own cars, so the idea of them taking trains into the city and then catching the PATH for the first time is a no-no.
And now, the point. The revelation I had.
I can’t really recall what led me to this thought, but it hit me: I am now 10 months into unemployment. I have been extremely isolated during this time. With money scarce, I’ve been focused on hosting and producing my podcast/show, Where’s The Remote? (go subscribe now, thanks in advance), while also job hunting. But again, I can probably count on one hand how many times people have reached out just to check on me.
A portion of this is on me. I resigned in December, and I can’t recall whether I shared that publicly for any sustained period. It was only recently, when I shared some of my frustrations with this process, that people reached out in response to that specific post. The logical Aquarius in me is extremely conflicted. On one hand, I am disappointed (to an extent). On the other hand, it’s like, damn, this is the most tumultuous time for all of us. I have a few friends who have been let go by their employers. We are all under the thumb of inflation, getting mushed at every corner. And you can’t escape one of those stupid Jubilee videos showcasing how idiotic and braindead Middle Americans are as they continue to support and vote against their own best interests.
We are all going through it. I get it. But part of me is thinking, damn, there have been plenty of times when I’ve reached out to say hello, check on people, or show some level of love and support when I couldn’t attend an event. One sentence could mean so much to someone. I can’t help but think..
How many times have I poured love into someone, but who’s pouring into me?
I remember coming across a post on TikTok—if I’m not mistaken, it was from a psychologist or therapist—who said that hyper-independent people are often overlooked or not considered. Their sentiments align with the idea of not needing to check on the individual cause they assume the person is fine because they have always been fine in the past.
“I know Steven is good.” “Steven always figures it out.” “I’m sure he’s fine.”
Yes, mentally, I have had to be irrational in this process to maintain my sanity. But that’s something you have to do every day, and some days, you don’t succeed. There have been multiple waves of depression at different points throughout the year.
Since I don’t have health insurance, I’ve lost consistent communication with my therapist. When we emailed more frequently earlier this year, she told me that, while this is a transition period for me, I still need human connection. She also reminded me that I could still be out here dating and trying my best not to isolate myself completely.
I cannot date under these circumstances. A nearly 40-year-old Black man with no job and limited finances trying to date in today’s world? Impossible. Preposterous. Delusional, actually. I am better off wearing one of those old-school cone shaped “dunce” caps.
The last time I did something recreationally was when I went to see Spider-Man: Brand New Day. The last time I made plans with someone was around March or April, when I planned to see comedian Hassan Phills headline at Gramercy Theatre. (My friend lost her phone or wallet on Metro-North and didn’t/couldn’t show.) I was supposed to go to The Fall Off Tour at MSG to see J. Cole, but I was in such mental disarray that I passed on it.
As we get closer to the end of the year, I’m really looking at things from the perspective of what I need to do better first. I need to be more visible to my friends and open my door more often. But I also need to hold them accountable. If you really miss me, want to see me, or want to talk to me, I’m accessible. Your level of effort dictates how much connection we have.
And maybe, through that, I establish deeper connections with those individuals—or someone new comes into my life and shows up in a way that’s mutually reciprocal.
