Hey hey beauties missed you here’s another one….
I never thought I’d say that. But life has a way of showing you who’s really there.
Sometimes it’s not loud, it’s just quiet, and that quiet tells you a lot.
I used to think I knew my circle. Laughs, coffee, chats, kids growing up together, that sort of thing. No big promises, just friendships I thought were genuine.
I was always someone who tried to be there for people. If somebody had a problem, I’d listen. If somebody needed support, I’d try to help. I never did those things because I wanted something in return. I did them because that’s how I am when I care about someone.
But there’s something about going through a difficult time yourself that makes you look at people differently.
You suddenly start noticing things you might have overlooked before.
I wasn’t particularly interested in going to certain parties, and looking back, I’m glad I turned down most of those invitations. On the few occasions I did go, I came away feeling uncomfortable, as though I’d somehow done something wrong.
It made me question whether those invitations were ever genuine.

At the time, I didn’t make a big thing of it. I carried on with my life, still believing that the relationships meant something.
Then my life changed.
Losing my children from my everyday life was something I never imagined I’d have to experience. My children were my world.
Everything I did involved them. Going out for meals, spending time together, making memories and enjoying the little things that make being a mum special.
Then suddenly, everyday life wasn’t there in the same way.
And while I was trying to deal with that, something else started becoming very noticeable.
The people I’d been there for weren’t there for me.
No calls. No messages. No asking how I was coping. Nothing.
And it wasn’t just the silence. It was the way some people started behaving towards me, almost as though I’d done something wrong.
I found myself wondering what I’d actually done to deserve that.
I wasn’t expecting anybody to fix my situation. I wasn’t asking people to carry my problems. But I did expect a little compassion from people who had once called themselves my friends.
A simple message would have been enough.
And that’s when I started thinking back.
How many times have I listened to their problems? How many times have I made time for them? How many times have I supported people when their own lives weren’t going particularly well?

Yet when I found myself going through one of the hardest periods of my life, suddenly there was nobody around.
It makes you question things.
Were these friendships ever as genuine as I thought? Was I actually valued, or was I simply someone people were happy to have around when they needed something?
I can’t answer those questions for anybody else, but I know how their behaviour made me feel.
And perhaps that’s the biggest disappointment: realising that the people you thought would understand you are sometimes the very people who make you feel most alone.
I’ve also had to look at myself.
I’ve realised that I can get too involved in other people’s situations. I want to help, I want to listen, and I want to make things better.
But I’ve learned that not every situation needs my involvement.
Sometimes you have to leave people to deal with their own problems. You have to stop making yourself available to everyone and start making time for yourself.
Because you cannot keep being there for everybody while neglecting yourself.
And one thing I’ve definitely learned is that loyalty doesn’t always mean compassion.
Just because I would show up for someone doesn’t mean they would show up for me.
Just because I care genuinely doesn’t mean everybody else cares in the same way.
And just because you’ve known someone for years doesn’t mean they deserve unlimited access to your life.

I haven’t stopped caring about people, and I don’t want to become bitter because of my experiences.
But I have learned to pay attention.
I want genuine friendships. I want people who check in because they actually want to know how I’m doing, not because they need something.
I want relationships where effort goes both ways.
And I don’t think that’s asking too much.
Would I have chosen to go through everything I’ve experienced? Absolutely not.
But I cannot deny that it has opened my eyes.
There are certain friendships I might never have questioned if life had continued as it was. There are things I might have continued overlooking.
Sometimes a difficult period doesn’t create the cracks in a friendship. It simply makes them impossible to miss.
And perhaps that’s what happened to me.
I’ve realised that sometimes you lose people and gain clarity. Sometimes you experience loneliness and discover who genuinely cares. And sometimes the hardest chapters of your life teach you lessons you would never have learned otherwise.

So, a friend in need is a fake indeed?
Maybe not everyone. But I certainly know that difficult times can reveal a lot about the people around you.
I may have lost some friendships, or perhaps I’ve simply seen them for what they were.
Either way, I’m no longer interested in chasing people, forcing friendships or constantly proving my loyalty.
I haven’t lost my good heart. I’ve just learned that it deserves protecting, too.
And if you’ve ever been the person who showed up for everyone, only to find yourself standing alone when you needed someone, remember this:
You weren’t foolish for caring. You weren’t wrong for being loyal. And you weren’t asking too much by expecting a little compassion in return.
Because sometimes the most revealing thing about a friendship isn’t what someone says when they need you. It’s what they do when you need them.
And that’s something I won’t forget again.
Have you ever experienced something that made you question the friendships you once thought were genuine? I’d love to hear your experiences.
Sometimes sharing our stories helps someone else realise they’re not alone.
Share your thoughts thanks for reading, leave a Comment, like, & share don’t forget to come back for more!!!
As always love you loads 💕


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