I ate a lovely artichoke for dinner tonight. I particularly like artichokes, because they are a recreational food. Eating an artichoke is an event. It takes time to cook it, carefully peel all those leaves and then pull out the little furry strings... it all climaxes in the small, but deliciously yummy heart.
To my knowledge I was the first one in my immediate family to eat an artichoke. During my second year of college I came home for a weekend wanting to show my family all the new foods I'd learned from my vegitarian roommates (humus & asparagus were also on the list). My parents, who were raised in Indiana, had never experienced the arduous, and distinctly Californian artichoke. It was fun to "introduce" them to a new food (I have since also introduced sushi into the family diet!).
I've been trading voicemails with my brothers this week. It has been almost ten years since I left my parent's house. My youngest brother has gone from an 11-year-old to a man in the time I've been gone. As I grew up, I assumed that my family would always be there to bother me, play with me and take care of me. At the same time, I always assumed that I would leave home and create my own life for myself. I didn't realize that the two assumptions were not necessarily in line. Independence is in my blood. I never wanted to stay in my hometown and I don't think I would last longer than one week under the same roof as any of my family members. I have a thriving separate life, yet, lately I have had a deep longing for less separateness.
Before we moved here, people warned us that Los Angeles is a lonely city. Rob and I didn't pay much attention. We are social, proactive people. We figured we wouldn't have trouble finding friends. We have not had trouble finding friends.... but it has been difficult to find people who "do" friendship the same way that we do. It seems like people are too busy, or they live too far away. We had a difficult conversation with one couple that helped us realize that their expectation for a close friendship was seeing each other once a month. Our expectation is like once a week! My schedule changes every 10 weeks and it feels like my friendship circle changes that often too. For two academic quarters I was good friends with B and then I have not seen her for three months. Grad students do friendship according to convenience. All of us are too busy and not many people create space to live a relational life. There is are also elements of pettiness and competitiveness that can poison friendships. I want to say that I am still different, that my high commitment to relationships has survived LA and grad school. Yet, I often don't return e-mails and calls, or feel too busy to linger in casual conversation. To say I am different would be to lie to myself. I am critiquing a trend that I am part of, even though I desperately want out of it.
In a class this week, Dave Foy, a well-known trauma expert and one of my research advisors, made the off-hand comment that if he had to go through a traumatic experience, the protective factor that he would choose would be social support. Some things make trauma worse, some things "buffer" the negative impact of horrible experiences. Research shows that friends and family are perhaps the most valuable asset during difficult times. Across the board, people who are isolated, lonely and don't feel like they have friends and family to help, have the worst mental health.
Dave's comment touched a nerve with me. With some wonderful exceptions (D&K), I feel like my LA friendships are precarious and would not necessarily withstand a crisis. I deeply miss the years in Sacramento, when we lived near people who thought as highly of friendship as we do, people I still count on for counsel and comfort. I also miss being near my parents and brothers, the people who are obliged to love me no matter what.
Rob and I both feel like we are in a holding pattern, like we are waiting out school at which time we can go back to "real life". It just doesn't feel like real life without strong relationships. Life is little more than monotony without someone to introduce you to artichokes.
2 comments:
Hi, we love you by obligation a little, by choice a lot. We share your life, though far away, ready to help you with lonely times. We all have lonely times. LA is not forever.
Hi Sherry,
You have an amazing way with words. I'm so impressed with the way you lay your thoughts down in such poignant words.
During those (fortunately rare)times that I'm stuck in traffic, driving slower than I walk, I look at the people going the opposite direction. There are so many people here! I wonder that if by looking at their faces I could determine whether or not I could have a meaningful friendship with them. How can it be difficult in a place with so many people?
I had the lovely time of trying to establish relationships when I first moved to 'the 909' and was completely frustrated for a long while. My trips to bars were completely fruitless, my workmates lived forever miles away and my 'golden' friends like yourselves were even further away.
I got very lucky since then as you know, but for several months, I could not crack any shells. And those people I did meet... well, there was a missing ingredient and I cannot put my finger on what that is - that ingredient that makes friendships stronger than steel. Sacramento seemed so easy, but perhaps we're in different stages of our lives.
I also have some very close friends that I've met since I've been here. I certainly have no reason to... ...but LA (and the surrounding area of course) does not embrace like those places did where we grew up.
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