When I find myself in times of trouble, such as in these emotionally-charged waning days of 50, I have a secret weapon that has always saved me in just about every tricky situation. Looking back over the many years, I’ve come to realize that my secret super-powers have always been my friendships. Whenever I’m in the midst of doubt or difficulty, when the world has done me a wrong turn or someone has hurt me intentionally or unintentionally, my friends never fail to assemble like an avenging source of support and emotional sustenance.
It’s not usually an explicit action in response to a cry for help; my habit is not to cry, and my history is not to ask – yet somehow they all sense when I need a friend.
At those times, we’ll schedule a dinner out, share a phone call at the end of the day, or simply volley some texts back and forth that are enough to make me feel better about the world and my place in it.
As I navigate these treacherous final throes of 50, when mid-life malaise and crisis threaten to derail what personal progress I’ve made over the year, I find my friendships coming to a rescue I’ve only just realized I need – and for that I am grateful.
Despite the gas and grocery prices, I remain rich and abundant with friends – good friends – the sort that have stood by me for decades, and who have become family in a way that real family doesn’t always want to be. Everyone should be so lucky.
