“Stephanie…” my friend, the novelist, got my attention as we sat at a large group dinner. He paused and searched for what he wanted to say. “You’re …” I waited for him to speak. “Consistent,” he said, though he was not sure that it was the right word he wanted to say.

Consistent? I thought.

“Yeah, consistent.” He said again, with pride. He assured himself in his tone, that he expressed the meaning he wanted to convey. Consistent? I thought again. I was perplexed. What an odd thing to say?

“That’s a good thing,” a girl in the group stated. “That’s actually unique,” she said as though she quickly reviewed all her relationships. “Can you be my friend?” She wasn’t being sarcastic, she was being serious.

“Yeah,” I whispered to the novelist, “I can be your rainy day friend.”

“Whomp, Whomp,” we said in unison. The concept of a “rainy day friend” is a thought I had and I have been working through with a few friends.

I have let go of a lot since I have been on my voice journey. This journey has really been a journey towards my oneness. I’m learning to embrace my “shadow self” or the parts of myself that I don’t often show. Or the parts of myself that others see in me, that I may not always see in myself.

To be the true light you are meant to be and stand in all your beauty, you must learn to love all of yourself, unconditionally. 

Unconditional love, whispered that in my ear this past month.

I moved on from good friendships from my early adulthood almost two years ago. It was the right thing to do, because not one of those friends have checked in on me. When some of my friends, who I don’t  talks to regularly, start to reach out to me more, I know they are struggling. In fact, last fall a friend that I haven’t talked to since I moved to LA, six years ago, checked in on me. I knew something was up. After his third call in one day, it was obvious. I was so upset that he had theaudacity to ask me did after years of silence. We haven’t spoken since.

What a harsh reality it will be, for the friends I moved on from, when they reach out to me and for the first time in our friendship, I WON’T BE THERE.

In Los Angeles, a few coworkers have reached out when they are lost, struggling or hurting. Once their lives get better, I get crickets. I am the rainy day friend, and I have been the rainy day friend for awhile. Enough! It’s one-sided relationships like these that I do not need or deserve.

Their are people that I have met in various classes, community service and church, that reach out to me, when they want something real, a real conversation, someone who really listens or a real friend. They tell me, you were the first person I thought of because I remember you as always being kind, honest and genuine.

When did consistency, honesty and true friendship become such a novelty? Why do we accept less then we deserve? Where are we going as a people? What world are we raising our kids in? Really? We can do better. We deserve better. We are better.

I can’t be a friend to everyone that want’s a true friend, wants to be seen and wants to be heard. I am just one person and one voice. While I know the power of one, when it comes to friendship it’s a reciprocal relationship. We need to be friends to ourselves first. We then need to be the friends that we want in our lives to others. If you walk down this path toward true friendship, you will find it.