The irony of swiping left.

It was 10 am on Friday morning and I heard a bing-bong alert on my phone.

Get eggs

We pick up eggs at a local farm every Friday, and I’m notorious for forgetting.

To clear the appointment reminders on my phone I have to open the calendar app. It was easy enough to find my chicken farm date and turn off the snooze… there were only 3 appointments. One was weekly therapy, one was a piano lesson, and one was to get eggs. Last week I actually had to scroll down one line because at that point I still had a class I was taking, and another piano student. I had 5 things to do- 5 people to interact with during the past few summer months. Yes, picking up my eggs and listening to a weekly zoom conference were included.

It’s been a pretty lonely few years for me. “Few” sounds good in that sentence. It was actually 26.

I’ve never really experienced that cathartic feeling women talk about when they “Spring clean”, get rid of old toys, and donate piles of clothes “to make room for more”, or “to simplify life”. I’m a simple person. For me, exactly two pairs of jeans is enough. I have a stack of Life is Good t-shirts (most faded, shrunk, or with holes now), some go-to solid pots and pans, and a proper 10 inch knife; and the same furniture I bought in college 20 years ago still adorns my bedroom.

But when it comes to friends and social activities, I have always wanted some… any. And the thought of “sifting through” my social engagements to unload unnecessary obligations and make “me time” seemed a fortunate problem to have. Two decades sporting the “I’m invisible and untouchable” cloak of anorexia and bulimia had left me knowing more physicians than people. And I liked none of them.

I used to dream of the need for a day planner, and actually purchased a really nice “Kate- something” one four or five years back. I loved the possibilities of the time blocks and color-coded weekly tabs. It had a huge contact section, perfect for all the friends I was certain to make when I no longer looked so frightening and people didn’t need to worry if I would attend a food-centered gathering because I couldn’t wait to show up, favorite dish in hand. Three years ago at New Year’s I again decided that it would be the year of having things to do. I designed my own bullet journal/agenda, teaching myself to draw flowers and other botanicals to make the pages come alive. (I couldn’t wait to get to March, my birthday month, where I’d perfected buds and blooms of the crocus and narcissus plants to welcome both my new year and the new Spring.)

I had, by that time, learned to plonk around on YouTube to hear human voices during my days alone, and some days I kept quite busy keeping up if many influencers posted on that particular morning. In general, I hated social media, and still do. But when you don’t need to bother turning your ringer on during the day because nobody calls, it can be hard to feel connected apart from maybe watching the news, which only brought me down.

By last year, I had about 40 contacts in my phone, and about two thirds were not family or physicians. I felt myself as blessed, even if none of us ever got together and no one ever reached out. It was nice to see some names when I scrolled my phone from the little white couch in the green room, wondering who I could message or call just to say hello. It always ended up being my dad or my uncle GJ.

Over the course of these past 18 months I have embarked on a journey of self- discovery. To date I have no idea where I am at along the way towards wherever I end up and where I’ll (hopefully) one day meet “me”. Part of my recovery process to get away from a life of disordered eating was to think critically about what I wanted for my life. A list on my desk, and a copy in my phone, reminds me of the things I love and dream to do, both realistic and completely ‘not-so-much’- most of them the latter. Realistically, I didn’t actually know much at all about what I wanted. But I knew very well what I didn’t… and that was a good start.

I remembered when writing my list in chicken scratch bits and pieces on my phone, that in order to make space for a new life a few years prior when I began to write my recovery story, I had had to choose to let go of a good bit of what I knew. Without taking out some pieces of my life pie that had taken more than their share of space and time (read -> anorexia, bulimia, exercise obsession), there was no way other things could enter into the picture to provide the balance I sought. (Read more on finding balance here.)

And I realized that, though I didn’t know what I wanted to do as a career, so long as I held onto what I was doing that kept me unhappy, there would never be the physical time, nor the emotional and mental space, necessary to explore new things and develop other passions. So I started the process of selling my shares of a corporation I co-founded and owned half of, but didn’t care enough about by that time to keep going unless things changed, if I’m to be honest.

The next heart-piercing recognition was that, in many ways, out of my desperate loneliness, I had created a fake social sphere to belong to. I realized that, no matter now many channels I followed, or people whose contact information I eagerly typed into my most recent iPhone eager with the thought of upcoming communion, I still never felt connected.

Maybe suggest you go do something together” I was encouraged. “Put yourself out there and introduce yourself,” another piece of unsolicited advice counseled me.

And without fail, I would shortly thereafter be consoled by the same well-meaning individual, “People are just busy. They mean well, but they aren’t perfect”. Or a favorite: “We live in a broken world full of sin. People are selfish by nature… it’s not you.”

Pretty soon I found myself giving each person I had any semi-recent contact with one, or sometimes two, more “chances”. I sent notes to people from my past with whom I hoped to rekindle lost friendships. And I emailed individuals I thought might need a friend or support.

One by one I swiped left until the red Delete warning showed. Depending on the strength of my desired significance for them to have in my life, I paused and held my breath as I pressed confirm… or did a quick swipe as if I was washing dirt off my hands after years of them being soiled and stained by false hopes and broken expectations.

The names that remained were few. Precious few. And of those, all but a handful were kept out of obligation and dedication: estranged family members, neighbors, people who had previously purchased our honey.

Over the weeks my YouTube feed changed as I deleted people who inspired me on a rare good day, but made me insecure on most. Eventually even the algorithms changed and I finally escaped diet culture adverts and random “What I Eat In A Day” video suggestions (as much as is possible in this diet-obsessed society).

Flagged emails from months before- flagged not for follow up, but because I couldn’t quite manage and process the associated or insinuated distress encrypted within the benign letters- were deleted. And the deleted folder was emptied along with the archive and junk boxes.

During my recent struggle with intense, home-binding pain, my contact list shrunk yet again. Bridges were burned by friends betraying me, and others made it clear anything was more important in that moment than the fact that I wasn’t sure how I’d get to the store for milk, or fetch the mail when my husband was away for work.

Proverbs 17:17 says that “A friend loveth at all times, and a brother is born for adversity.”

Certainly the antidote to loneliness is companionship and fellowship. But in order to find either in the truest sense, we must often sift out that which is diluting the pool of valuable acquaintances, influences of integrity, and commitments that are esteeming… even if we are left with frighteningly few. Those remaining are the only ones that were worth having all along, even if our Insta follower numbers and Facebook messenger contacts offered naive security measured in spades.

The Bible instructs us to be in communion with one another. And, likewise, it repeatedly instructs not to be quick of temper, and to offer forgiveness up front.

And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching.” Hebrews 10:24–25 NIV

A true friend is priceless. Friends sustain you during hardships. And they encourage you when you need a word to lift you up and remind you of your worth, your beauty, and your strength on the days you feel like you have none.

Most of us are familiar with the words of 1 Corinthians 13, which ends with, “And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.” For sure, how can there be love without companionship?

Being in community also gives you the chance to be around people at different stages of their faith journey—and to bear their burdens alongside them (Galatians 6:2). And scripture says we are better together than alone. (Romans 12:4–5).

But it also guides us to seek wise counsel, and be wary of the friendships we make, that they are not false. In a recent essay I wrote about healthy comparison, and spoke to the importance of such when establishing our principles, and righteously judging the actions and beliefs of the world around us. This applies equally to determining the sincerity and validity of a friendship as it does to any other choices and decisions made in life.

Below is a quote I read on fake friendships:

“Fake friends are like shaddows: always near you at your brightest moments, but nowhere to be seen at your darkest hour. True friends are like stars, you don’t always see them but they are always there.”

How do we know if our friendships, aquaintances, and social spheres are real?

Deep down you likely already know… but I understand in a very personal way the pain that can be felt as delineations are made. Here are some guiding principles and scripture discussing false friendships, should you need more than your emotions to guide you towards reliable companions in life:

  • Matthew 7:16 You can identify them by their fruit, that is, by the way they act. Can you pick grapes from thornbushes, or figs from thistles?

  • Proverbs 26:23-25 Smooth words may hide a wicked heart, just as a pretty glaze covers a clay pot. People may cover their hatred with pleasant words, but they’re deceiving you. They pretend to be kind, but don’t believe them. Their hearts are full of many evils.

  • Psalm 28:3 Do not drag me away with the wicked–with those who do evil–those who speak friendly words to their neighbors while planning evil in their hearts.

  • Psalm 41:9 Even my close friend, someone I trusted, one who shared my bread, has turned against me.

  • Psalm 41:5-6 But my enemies say nothing but evil about me. “How soon will he die and be forgotten?” they ask. They visit me as if they were my friends, but all the while they gather gossip, and when they leave, they spread it everywhere.

  • Jeremiah 9:4 Beware of your friends; do not trust anyone in your clan. For every one of them is a deceiver, and every friend a slanderer. (**This isn’t to be taken literally, but rather to show how the societal acceptance of someone does not equal their sincerity and honesty as a friend.**)

  • 1 Corinthians 15:33-34 Do not be fooled. “Bad companions ruin good character.” Come back to your right senses and stop your sinful ways. I declare to your shame that some of you do not know God.

  • Psalm 38:10-11 My heart pounds, my strength fails me; even the light has gone from my eyes. My friends and companions avoid me because of my wounds; my neighbors stay far away.

And as far as the vulnerability when faced with loneliness and isolation is concerned, don’t let down the guard of your heart. You are worth more than to beg to be loved. You ARE loved. If ‘she’ didn’t care enough to show up when you needed her most, let her go.

Yes, the Bible asks us to forgive easily. And this we must do, for the preservation of the goodness of our own hearts. But forgiveness is far more about releasing a person from yourself rather than releasing yourself to them. And forgiveness does not mean trust is restored.

Do not give what is holy to the dogs; nor cast your pearls before swine, lest they trample them under their feet, and turn and tear you in pieces.” (Matthew 7:6).

“Swiping left” in life will, in many ways, inevitably bear the resemblance of dissociation and distance. And, at first glance, it may feel like your already-small social network can now be housed in the shell of a garden snail.

But remember that, no matter the trial, lack of friends, disconnectedness, or distance you feel you have run away from God, you are never alone.

“Be strong and courageous. Do not fear or be in dread of them, for it is the Lord your God who goes with you. He will not leave you or forsake you.”

Deuteronomy 31:6

Don’t be afraid to sift out the chaff from your life- relationships, and in other areas of attempted connectedness, by swiping to the left. A simple life with true meaning, and a single friend of true honor, will feel more fulfilling than an army of acquaintances. If you want help clarifying and refining your life, or you have done so and are feeling the void of loneliness, I would be honored to be a real friend. Just say the word.

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