Needy People? Bah!

"People who need people are the luckiest people in the world", warbled Barbra Streisand a long time ago. I wasn't that old when that song was criminally popular, and even then I thought it was egregiously inane. Frankly, the lyrics to this song irritated me to no end. What about those of us who simply don't "need" people all that much? Are we congenitally unlucky? I couldn't see the advantage of neediness.

Even during adolescence, arguably one of the needier stages in life, I was an aloof kid. Sure, I wanted attention and popularity among my peers - any adult who says otherwise about their younger selves is lying. In my case, perhaps the tight emotional bonds forged in youth lay in teenage social behaviors I hadn't yet mastered or in deficiences in my less than demonstrative family. True, in my late teens & early twenties, my favorite mode of attracting attention lay in shock value. At least one of my wee group of readers knows this very well [arches eyebrows meaningfully in a south-westerly direction].

I'll also freely admit that my ideal romantic longing at that time was to be subsumed within the heart and soul of another person - to be truly and deeply known to another. Living longer has proven that even I am not completely knowable, even to myself, and therefore I no longer feel the need to insist that another take perpetual care of my psyche.

From a psychological viewpoint, I believe the prevailing wisdom is that people who genuinely are vulnerable and empathetic to others are emotionally and mentally healthier than others - to which I say pffft!

More likely, they are people pathologically unable to enjoy their own company, folks whose guts churn with anxiety at the thought of only their own personalities for comfort and entertainment, or couples who are joined at the hip for fear that the beloved may just, if out of one's sight for a moment, disappear in a puff of air.

The burning question for today's Fresh Hell is: why do these people feel compelled to burden me with their neediness, and demand I share in theirs? I've been confronted at times over the last 10 years or so by mostly female friends of mine who have plaintively complained that I'm not a close enough friend to them, that I'm often inaccessible or cold, and beacuse I don't yearn for their continual company as presumably they yearn for mine that in some way I am deficient.

Perhaps this is a sexist statement. Since I don't cotton anymore to PC dogma, I don't care. Oh sure, I've run into many needy men in my time, and generally have run away screaming at the first opportunity. But somehow, in a romantic relationship, it's easier to burn a bridge that way. Friendships, particularly female ones, require a rather more delicate management.

I don't dislike having friends or being social - I have a rather small circle of intimates with whom I do share, on rare special occasions, vulnerabilities. As I age this circle is definitely ever-tightening, but conversely the list of things that ping on my pet peeve monitor is growing, so balance is maintained in my universe and I am comfortable no entropy will ensue.

Not unusual is that my circle of intimates, including Mr. Fresh Hell, are those folks with whom I share the philosophy and habit of "non-dependency". Like bonds to like, which is a cliche no less for its truth.

Another truth? The luckiest people in the world are those who recognize the true blue qualities of the ultimate best friend, oneself.