One morning in late October, I woke up to an audio clip from one of my good friends. She was on the road to work and over six minutes, told me about the frustrating parts of her commute and what lay ahead for the work day. Apparently all the kids were sending voice notes these days and us 40 somethings needed to catch up.
I took a stab at sending one back, telling her about my recent health concerns and how my new job was going. I recorded it in one take and sent it off. She sent another the next morning and I was suddenly inspired.
I started spamming friends with voice notes, wishing them well and rambling about how my life is going, what I was eating, or what joint hurt. In this process, I have connected more with friends, more deeply than ever before.
There are more barriers to adults friendships than adolescent ones. We live farther apart, have less free time, and can never seem to align schedules. It’s a well studied and chatted phenomenon. In high school or college, there’s a conveyor belt of potential friends. If you’re in a good place to do so, you can amass a menagerie of personalities with no shortage of entertainment for yourself.
The stream of friends whittles away with the first job, the apartment, the career focus, the graduate school relocations, and other great and small tectonic life shifts. All of a sudden, you’re asking a colleague in radiology what books he hates. But he’s not really into reading and mostly listens to podcasts really changing the narrative surrounding so-called toxic masculinity and as you tune out the rest of what he’s saying, you already know you’re speaking with an idiot. But you have a meeting and are mercifully excused before the strike of the hour.
And so it goes over and over with the few people you ever get to exchange casual words with.
Then there are the weekend activities like craft nights at breweries or run clubs where you try to recreate that conveyor belt and maybe succeed finding a few pretty good friends. But work, life frustrations, and maybe a few babies wedge themselves in between and all of a sudden you’re stuck with the moms at preschool pickup as your new acquaintances. Your real friend connections, once seemingly indestructible, fade as years pass like blinks. Cue the volleying apologies for perpetual busyness and text inattention.
It’s about proximity. We have the most success with those accessible to us and when it’s not easy to pop by and sit in their kitchen for a bit, we really have to work at keeping connected. Ugh. More work. After the kids’ soccer games, health conscious lunch decisions, sex coach tips for your dull relationship, and quick zoom meetings, there’s more work. And you’re too tired for that. Too tired maybe to bother with the new lip stain you promised you’d wear or a decent hairstyle to complement a newly thrifted outfit. Too tired for long drives with nervous pets. And it gets easier and easier to just… disappear.
It turned out that people liked the voice notes. We could trade gossip without having to burn 40 minutes of a precious evening multitasking while trying to have a conversation on the phone. For me, it was nice to hear about someone’s life in their own words and in their own voice. The inflections, the ummms, and few seconds of silence while they gathered their thoughts became signatures. The pinging notification for those unique pieces of my friends became a welcomed treat.
It’s low test. There’s no rehearsal, no outfit changes in preparation for a criminally long wait for viral stuffed french toast. It’s a stream of consciousness that is a snippet of the me someone would get if I did get to sit in their kitchen and burn part of an afternoon belly laughing. The people I know are illuminated and made real over a phone. No interruptions for clarification. I preserve them like precious artifacts to replay over and over.
Best of all, we’re exchanging what texts can’t and what lack of proximity won’t allow: the truth. We deliver voice notes babbling, riffing off what’s in the surroundings, and producing those reactions emojis can’t replace. The sound of a scoff is priceless. There are even secrets that slip in between traffic lights. Magic can happen too, when someone comes to revelations while relaying their personal story. Maybe there are things you weren’t sure your friend ever knew and can now say.
Here’s a note just for you:
0:00
-3:29
Transcript:
Hello, friends. These introductory voice notes are always short and lighthearted, nothing too heavy. I can tell you all my secrets later.
So, I thought I had a cold, but after 7 days of suffering, because, you know, I’m a masochist, I finally went to urgent care and got an antibiotic because it wasn’t just viral. The doctor didn’t think that anyway. It becomes a process of elimination based on historical data, what the most likely causes, because they can’t swab your nose and identify these disease agents rapidly. I honestly wish they could, because I don’t want to be one of those people who gets antibiotics prescribed for viral infections, because I’m badgering the doctor and he’s afraid of getting a bad review or something. So, I’m on the mend from that, thankfully. I might have a karaoke party coming up and my voice needs to be ready. I’m thinking James Bond theme songs. Let me warm up: me me meeeee!
Anyhoosiers, my boss, the person who got me to the dark side, had his last day the other day. It was a huge bummer, but I was thankful to learn from him what I could. And hopefully, we’ll stay in contact. He’s very knowledgeable, and just gave me encouragement when I needed it as one of the newbies.
But I have had to learn in my career, how to say goodbye to people. People have quit, died, moved away and I mean, I’m an emotional person, so I have cried. Uh, it’s affection. Shows I cared in some way. But I am also good at disaster planning, so I came up with some goals for myself, some things I want to discuss with the new, uh, interim team lead, and we’re going to be off and running. It’ll be okay.
Other than that, getting back into the gym soon, hopefully. I have some evening meetings with a professional organization and the kids have their activities, so I have to squeeze all that in. I know it’s possible, but I just need to pin down a schedule for myself. It’s hard. We’re always trying to become this better version of ourselves, and I don’t know when we stop changing really, but I want to keep being capable of change. So I’m going to do it. I got the mental health squared away for now. But need to follow with that cardiovascular and all that. Can’t be out here with a jacked up cholesterol. Not demure.
I think that’s it for this one. This first note. Feel free to text me or send me your own voice note. Up to you. I’d love to hear how you’re doing, what books you’re reading, about your crazy neighbor. Anything. Hope it’s sunny where you are. See ya!
Social media tells us to risk being cringe for the sake of some joy and I try to lean in. I acknowledge and discard the feeling I’m being annoying and hit send anyway. I have to believe people want to hear from me or I’ll implode. And mercifully, they are glad I pressed send.
I am still shedding this lingering feeling that I’m a bother, that I take up too much room, but when I rattle on for 10 minutes, it heals that part needing emotional availability. Someone hears me and forgives my awkwardness. I don’t earn love but experience it. That kind of communion bridges a chaotic divide.
I am fortunate to have friends who I can lay my troubles with. They support me and have helped me through so many stages of my life. One friend, when maybe he’s short on time has simply text, “I hear you”.
When I am waxing on and on about my origin story, the parts I’ve never said, I know my friend hears me loud and clear.
What’s next?
Artist collaboration
That fiction I promised - hold my ass accountable, please
On submitting or publishing
Comments
Nothing yet. Say the first thing.
Sign in to join the conversation.