Growing up I often felt alone and isolated.  My struggles were so different, so unique.  I didn’t know anyone else with a hand like mine, so surely no one else could possibly understand.

In hindsight, I think I would have felt equally alone even if I had 5 classmates with PS.  I would have still thought, “They don’t understand.  My struggles are different and unique.”

The reality is that struggle is universal.  We ALL deal with it in different ways.  True, the struggles I face on a daily basis are different than those of my fully able body friends, but they have their own unique struggles; personal struggles, family struggles.

I am so thankful for the friends that trust me enough to share with me their struggles.  I seek to listen intently and when appropriate, seek to offer wisdom or perspective that they may not see from their vantage point.

I am so thankful as they deal with adoption issues or food allergies (neither of which effect me first hand) they do not think to themselves, “Melissa could not possibly understand, after all, she has never adopted [or] her kids don’t have food allergies.”

I cannot fully understand what day-to-day life is like when being exposed to dairy can end with my son being in the hospital, but as a thoughtful and compassionate friend, I can try to understand.  I can seek to understand.  I can listen with a heart to understand.  It’s a choice I make in order to love my friend.

When one is entirely self-focused, they simply do not care.  It isn’t that they cannot understand, but rather they will not.

They do not care about another’s struggle, they are preoccupied with their own.

They do not desire to hear the heart of another, they are too busy looking for someone to listen to them instead.

As I have grown I have found that I have been blessed with some high-quality friends over the years.  Certainly some stinkers in there, others who are more acquaintances than friends, but my assumptions that no one cared was so wrong.

My assumptions that one would understand was off-base.

My thoughts that I was alone and had to be alone was so far from the truth.

I discovered that I had people around me who jumped at the chance to lend a listening ear and offer not snap judgements but compassionate encouragement.

The process to discover this was crazy scary as it required me being transparent and risk rejection and embarrassment.  I was careful as to which people I share with and how much to share.  I did not flip a switch one day and spill everything to everyone I knew, but there were people whose lives were self-controlled and thoughtful.  They were loyal and honest and had earned my respect and trust.

I had felt alone for so long, but I did not have to be.

And today, when I feel myself slipping back into the habit of isolation I can recognize that as a sign that I am in need to fellowship with friends.  Not always to talk about PS or this problem or that one, but simply to be with people I know, trust and love.  To feel the sense of community that I have been blessed to receive.  And to be reminded that there are people around me who are for me, who care for me, who will seek to understand and encourage (and ever rebuke when needed).

At this point in my life, if I feel alone for any length of time it is by choice, not by necessity.