Being Invited

One of the rules in my house growing up was not to invite yourself over to someone’s house. If you were invited, that was fine. If I wanted to go to someone’s house, I needed to be invited and my mom would always check that the invitation had been given, not asked for.


It’s one of those dumb rules I’ve carried with me to this day. Don’t go where you’ve not been asked. Stay away from gatherings that don’t involve you or you weren’t invited to. Try not to be nosey or interfere where it’s not necessary.

I’ve “lost” several friends in the last two years; for a variety of reasons ranging from Facebook interactions, political differences, dishonesty and misunderstandings. It’s always painful and I spend a lot of time analyzing the middle and the end and attempting to learn something from the lesson.

Friendships aren’t any easier as I get older, in fact, they are in many ways more difficult because they mean more; and I’m less tolerant of drama. I don’t have a lot of regulations about friendships; I have different friends for different reasons (see here) and it’s never seemed to be a problem. I have movie friends, drinking friends, baseball or scout friends; friend’s I see regularly and friends I only contact at Christmas or birthdays.

So when a friendship starts to wobble, I always wonder, is it me? Did I go where I shouldn’t have? Said something I should have kept quiet about? Nosed in where I wasn’t wanted? Been critical or negative or discouraging? Was it politics or religion or maturity or geography?

Most of the time I’m willing to take the hit; accept the blame, embrace the responsibility for the bits and pieces of the end. Maybe it’s me. It probably is me. I don’t know how to be someone else but I’m trying. I don’t want to go where I’m not wanted; I won’t invite myself. But, I also don’t know how to be concerned, helpful, encouraging or caring; when I’m asked not to be. I don’t know how to come over if I’m not invited.