Friendship, Insecurity, and Other Such Topics

By Alison Stoner

My husband is really great at throwing out random questions that are meant to be conversation starters, but in reality, are deep philosophical matters that leave me pondering for days. His most recent one was:

“What is more important to you: To be well liked, or to be well respected?”

This question led me down the deep dark hole of years and years of feeling insecure, uncool, and wanting so desperately to be people’s friend.

Let me take you back to my bedroom at 12 years old. I had a purple and blue fleece blanket that covered my bed, a 101 Dalmatian dog shaped pillow, and large beanie baby plushies that covered my bed. The walls were painted baby blue, and I had my collection of Bath and Body Works body sprays displayed on my dresser. This space was my favorite place to color, to organize all my stationary, and to sing along to my NOW CDs. It was also my favorite place to hide away and cry over friendships.

I can still feel my mom’s hand stroking my hair as she laid beside me in my bed, trying her best to reassure me that everything would be ok. That given some time, maybe things would go back to the way they were. That seasons, and people change, and with them, friendships take a different shape. I also remember so clearly the deep hurt I felt when my best friend chose a different best friend and left me behind.

For as long as I can remember, friendship for me has been two-fold: something both sacred and hard. I still remember tears on the playground after hearing, “I’m not going to play with you today.” I remember the 9-year-old me striving to be liked by the cool girls who played princesses who rode around on wild horses. The tough middle school years when new girls came into the mix and I felt like I had to fight to be seen by the very people I shared BFF necklaces with. Too often I felt like the loyal friend who was left behind.

And high school. Ugh - high school. Some people have such great memories of their classmates and fun parties in high school. I remember feeling incredibly insecure. In my class (which will be celebrating their 20th class reunion this summer, something I have no desire to attend…), the popular girls were the sporty, pretty type - two things I was not. Those very girls (who I wished I could be friends with) didn’t give me the time of day. 

For so long I confused being well liked, aka “popular”, with having friends. The truth was, I did have friends. And while they had changed over the years from elementary to middle school to high school and then on to college, I started to understand the difference between quality v. quantity.  

I’d love to say that I left behind all the striving to be liked early in my 20s when I realized the blessing of the women around me and how thankful I was for the treasured friends I did have. But the truth is, I don’t think I was “cured” of this desire to be popular until I had to unpack insecurities with my own daughter.

Navigating girl drama and friendship woes with Emma has been one of my biggest struggles as a mom - my guess is because it’s an issue that hits so close to home for me. I’m now the mom lying in the bed stroking the hair of a beautiful little girl who has been hurt by someone she cared so much about. I get to be the mom who prays over her and her friendships, and tries my hardest to encourage her that things will get better. And now, out of my wisdom, I get to try to explain to an insecure 12-year-old that popularity isn’t the end goal (although, like me at age 12, Emma has a hard time realizing that truth).

As I’ve been reflecting on Matt’s question over the last week or so, I’m constantly reminded of a story found in Luke 5 and Mark 2 of the gospels. In quick summary, a paralyzed man was carried on a mat to the house Jesus was staying at by four of his friends. A crowd had gathered and the men were unable to get the paralyzed man through the door to get to Jesus. Unwilling to give up on their friend, the men climbed to the roof of the house with their paralyzed friend, tore off roof tiles, and then lowered him down into the room in front of Jesus.

The new question I’ve been asking myself as I contemplate this topic of friendship is:

Is it more important for me to be popular, or to have friends who are willing to tear off a roof for me?

I may fight sometimes with a desire to be seen, to feel included, to be popular, but the truth is that I know what is better.

I have friends who left a cooler and bags of groceries on my front porch when my husband ended up in the hospital…again.

I have a friend who saw the stacks of laundry baskets sitting in my living room when she stopped by and just started folding - without judgement or desire for any recognition.

I have a friend who grabbed my hand one Sunday morning and took me up for prayer during worship because she knew my family had been under financial stress and were so desperately seeking a breakthrough.

I have a friend who drove nearly two hours to the hospital so that I didn’t have to sit in a waiting room by myself when Matt was so unstable after his transplant.

I may not be the cool girl, but I have friends who will tear off the roof for me. 

There are times I think about some past friends and wonder what I did wrong. I wonder what I did to hurt them. I wonder why I wasn’t worth putting more of an effort towards. It’s probably really simple: life happens. There are women in my life that I think about often and I have zero “beef” with, but I haven’t put forth much effort in maintaining the friendship, let alone shooting them a text letting them know I was thinking of them. I often feel guilty about these “lost” relationships, but then I remind myself of what my mom told me so many years ago: that seasons, and people change, and with that friendships look different. Different doesn’t have to equal bad, and it doesn’t have to mean that something is wrong, different just means that things aren’t the same anymore. 

If you’re like me and struggle with the desire to feel included, accepted, and well liked, I want to remind you of one truth:

You have been chosen by the One who truly matters.

Ephesians 1:4 (TPT) says, “And in love he chose us before he laid the foundation of the universe! Because of his great love, he ordained us, so that we would be seen as holy in his eyes with an unstained innocence.” The one thing that has been key for me in battling the insecurity bug is realizing who I am in Christ.

I am His. He chose me. He loves me. He will fight for me. He sees me.

Once these truths took root in my heart (and like all things, they need to be watered from time to time), I set aside all the striving to be liked, and instead, bloomed in gratitude that He’s surrounded me with people who will tear off the roof on my behalf.