I used to be afraid of losing friends — in my twenties, that fear was constant. I even worried about losing my sister and my two brothers. They all seemed so perfect to me, almost too good to be true. I thought maybe I wasn’t good enough, and that if I made the wrong choices, they’d just decide they didn’t want me around anymore.
Sometimes, when I called and they didn’t call back soon, I’d panic. Did I talk to them about it? Of course not. My anxiety made no sense, and I had no idea where it came from.
Looking back, maybe that fear had deeper roots. My youngest brother died when he was just 20. Maybe somewhere inside, I started to expect that good people don’t stay.
But now I know: even if I fall, they won’t disappear. I have truly good friends and a wonderful family. That fear doesn’t own me anymore.
Exploring the Unexpected 