I Think Some Friendships Have Trained Me to Be Easy to Come To and Very Hard to Truly Know

Dear Delyara, I became the safe one. That is what happened. The listener. The holder. The one who can absorb shame without making someone feel worse. The one who replies thoughtfully. The one who stays calm. People trust me with themselves. But lately I have been asking whether they know me in return. Really know me. Not the useful version. Not the wise version. Not the one who can carry. Some friendships are built so strongly around my capacity that there is almost no imagination left in them for my need. I can feel it in the way conversations tilt. In how quickly people move to advice or practical reassurance if I arrive too messy, too ashamed, too repetitive, too unfinished in my pain. That hurts. Because it means I helped build connections in which my strength became the most lovable part of me. And strength is such a lonely thing to be loved for when you are tired.