By Kristen Mudrack

At the start of the pandemic, I had to make the decision, for my own health, to avoid people entirely or mask when I had to be around people. We can debate the science around COVID all day long, but that’s not the point of this post. Just hang with me.

The pandemic taught me that I had to do things on my own – I couldn’t rely on other people to help, even if I wanted them to. People could drop groceries at my door or send a text to check up, but that was really it. My social interactions were limited to Zoom and texting, and made me feel rather isolated while I knew others were hanging out having dinner or sitting in the pews at church (albeit six feet apart). For nearly two years, I was an isolated, masked person – avoided in the name of my protection.

I would go back and make the same choice again. Isolation was necessary for people like me who were at risk of severe consequences and even death from COVID. But what I’m starting to realize now is that the two years of isolation has made it such that I still try to do things on my own.

I got so used to having to do things on my own that I now have a hard time asking for help (even if I need it). I lost friends through the pandemic because I wasn’t able to see them in person. On the flip side, I became closer with some people because we were able to connect virtually – and they cared deeply that I and others like me be protected as much as possible.

I got so used to staying in my own bubble that I tend to not venture out now, even though I can. I have a playground in my backyard for my kids and a stocked kitchen full of good food – why would I need to go to the park or to a restaurant? Why sit down in a restaurant when you could put your kids securely in their seats and eat in the comfort of your own home?

I got so used to masking that now it’s strange to walk into a medical facility without one. I still wear one sometimes.

I got so used to being isolated that now being around people for extended periods of time is draining. Okay, it was draining before, but now it’s worse.

Before the pandemic it was just me and Cody. Now it’s me, Cody, and two energetic toddlers. So, even when things could go back to “normal”, my life had changed. The people who wanted to hang around me were different now, and having two toddlers and a full time job meant that I couldn’t do things at the drop of a hat like I used to. I had spent two years on the outside, so now it felt like I had to fight my way back into the inner circle – or just step back and continue the way we had been for the last two years. The latter was the easier option. I’d missed so much in other’s lives that it was hard to catch up on everything, just like it was for other people with me.

So now what? Now that I know why friendships have been so hard for the last three years, what am I going to do about it?

Well, for starters, I have to actively choose to be around people. I don’t want it to sound like I’m a hermit – I’m not. But going for a walk with my kids in the stroller by myself is different than asking a friend to come along. Going to church and sitting alone is different than sitting with friends. Going to work and doing your job but not talking to anyone outside of the necessary things is different than eating lunch with a co-worker and talking about your day.

I also have to learn again to ask for help when I need it and not feel like I am imposing on someone who has offered to help. As an independent working mom of littles, that one’s really hard for me. It’s a work in progress. I think I do a good job of being there for others when they need help, but I’m reticent to receive help from others.

As I told a friend today, friends are friends for different reasons. Some friends may be the ones you can call in a crisis, while others are the ones you have a standing weekly dinner with. Some friends are best for going outdoors and exploring, while others are great for rainy day playdates. Some friends you bare your soul to, while others you ask for a fun day out together.

Whatever the nature of your friendship, don’t neglect them. Meet them where they are, when you are able. Give of yourself and accept help too. Check up on them, show up at their door, drop off groceries or make a zoom call. It’s time to start living in community again – even when it’s hard and messy and difficult.