When you stop trying so hard to reach everyone

When I was young, I believed relationships were something you had to work hard to earn.

If my friends liked something, I pretended to like it too. If everyone was talking about a celebrity or a piece of gossip, I joined in, even when I had no interest, simply because I wanted more things to talk about with them.

I was so afraid of being left behind that I was always the person in the group who did not dare stop to tie her shoelaces.

Only later did I realise that much of people-pleasing comes from a fear of loss. Over time, that constant accommodation became a habit.

I grew used to taking care of other people’s feelings, reading the room and analysing the slightest change in someone’s tone again and again.

Even when I did not want to do something, I would still instinctively say:“It’s fine.”“I can do it.”“Okay.”

I was afraid of not being liked, afraid of having no friends and afraid that one day I would be left behind.

So I tried desperately to hold on to different relationships, as though being sincere enough, proactive enough and devoted enough could guarantee that no one would leave.

But no relationship can survive through one person’s effort alone.

Real love is not something you chase. It happens when two people are drawn towards each other and naturally move closer.

I once had a very close friend.

From primary school through to high school, we were always in the same class. We walked to and from school together, shared secrets and talked about the celebrities we liked.

We never thought about who was maintaining the friendship. It simply felt natural that we would remain friends for life.

When university began, we moved to different cities and our lives slowly drifted apart. At first, we still spoke often. We shared the small details of our days, caught up on life and complained to each other about whatever was going wrong.

But gradually, the replies took longer to arrive and the messages became shorter.

Most of the time, I was the one starting the conversation. Then one day, I realised that when I stopped messaging first, the conversation stopped completely.

No one had really done anything wrong.

People change. The rhythm of life changes. The worlds we live in change.

Someone you once spoke to every day can eventually become nothing more than a quiet profile picture on your social media feed.

As Yu Hua writes in Cries in the Drizzle: “I no longer pretend to have many friends. I return to solitude and begin living alone as my true self.”

Perhaps everyone eventually reaches this stage. We slowly step away from the noise of relationships and return to ourselves.

Now, I have become increasingly aware of the subtle difference in timing between people.

Some marry early. Some move to new cities and rebuild their lives. Some devote themselves to work. Some find new intimate relationships. Others remain where they were, looking back at the past.

The things that once felt impossible not to share gradually become things we no longer know how to begin talking about.

Sometimes the saddest part is not an argument.

It is the moment you realise that the two of you may no longer be able to truly understand each other.

One Chinese New Year, we met again briefly. I found that I could not connect with the things she was talking about, while she seemed unable to understand the life I was living.

That was when I realised our friendship had already stopped somewhere in the past.

It may be sad. It may leave regret. But many relationships are only meant to accompany us through one part of the journey.

Life is always moving. No one stays in the same place forever.

Simone de Beauvoir once said that the task of a lifetime is to free ourselves from the expectations of others and become who we truly are.

The most exhausted person in any relationship is often the one trying desperately to preserve everything.

When I was young, I believed that being needed, liked and firmly chosen was proof of my value. But eventually, we all have to learn how to stand beside ourselves.

So I stopped trying to maintain every relationship at all costs.

I began to accept that people move at different speeds and towards different lives. Some people stay beside you only briefly. Others remain for a long time.

Perhaps the most comfortable relationships are the ones in which you do not need to please anyone, prove yourself or force your way towards them.

When you finally stop trying so hard to reach other people, your relationships become lighter.

You begin to see yourself again. And the people who truly love you are still there.