I like to think of myself as someone who is empathetic. The definition of empathy, as described in the online dictionary of Oxford Languages is “the ability to understand and share the feelings of another.” I guess this translates loosely as being able to put yourself in the position of a friend, (ok, it doesn’t have to be a friend, but for the purpose of this article, and my writing in general, let’s say it is a friend) and not only understand how they are feeling, but also to feel it with them.
In that context, I am not always an empathetic friend, at least not to every single friend in every single situation. Sometimes, is probably as close as I can claim, for some friends, I am empathetic. Although I take too much responsibility for the feelings of others at times, that is acutely different to feeling it for them, or with them. And for the most part, this is probably healthier than being an empath, who absorbs and takes on all the feelings of all the people around them.
Perhaps what would be more accurate, would be to say I am a sympathetic friend. The definition of sympathy, also as described in the online dictionary of Oxford Languages, is “feelings of pity and sorrow, for someone else’s misfortune.” Loosely translated, once again in a friendship context, this is perhaps the ability to know that your friend is struggling and feel genuine sadness for them. So, for example, I might worry about a friend in an abusive or controlling romantic relationship, and feel sadness for my friend having found themselves in this situation, I myself do not feel hurt or abused or controlled. However I would feel the need to help my friend escape this situation in any ways I could, and not judge them for their choices that led them to the situation.
That said, I can’t escape that right there in the definition of sympathy is pity…. The online Dictionary of Oxford Languages describes pity as “the feeling of sorrow and compassion, caused by the sorrows and misfortunes of others.” I can only conclude that the difference between sympathy and pity therefore would be, if in the example above, I felt sorry for my friend, and implied that they had made stupid choices that I would never make, and felt no urge to be of assistance because I felt they got themselves into the situation and should get themselves out of it too. A quick google search affirms this, finding that the main difference is that pity implies an element of superiority.
Why does it matter? Because a few months ago, one of my closest friends called me to share some particularly heavy health news. This news not only leaves her in a state of limbo for the rest of the year, but also has a direct impact on her future, dreams and life planning. She had received the less than happy news a few days earlier, and stated, although I didn’t ask (or demand to know,) that she hadn’t told me, because she couldn’t handle me being “too much.” At the time, she was very upset, and I chose not to address this comment, take her advice at face value, and just listen to her.
I had been in the car, dropping my son at his casual job at the time of the call, and I stayed parked there in the carpark as I listened, and for a while after the call ended, immediately googling the name of the condition, the treatment, the prognosis. I let the tears fall as I drove home, heartbroken for my friend and knowing how devastating this news had been. Wondering what I could say or do, to assist or help her feel better, or, at least, less alone. Alas, there was nothing I could say, nor do really. All I could do was share the weight of this news, carry it with her and feel our way through it, together.
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When I got home, I sent her a message to reiterate that I was there for her, that she wasn’t alone in this and some hopeful statistics meaning she shouldn’t lose all hope. I didn’t share that I was heartbroken, although I had said on the phone that I was terribly sorry to hear this news and that she found herself in this predicament. I didn’t mention that I had cried, because I didn’t know if that would be “too much.” It’s such a vague critique, but I could only suppose she had meant that she couldn’t carry my grief on top of her own. Which was fair.
Chatting some more about it the next time we saw each other, I hugged her and said that I was so sorry. Teary, she said “don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault.” Of course, I knew it wasn’t my fault so I explained further that I was just so sad for her, and I knew it was crushing news for her.” Sitting on my couch, she looked at me and said “but you don’t know. You can’t possibly imagine.” She was right, of course, despite my sadness, the news ultimately didn’t affect my life, my future or my dreams. I couldn’t imagine, and I hadn’t tried. My sadness was for her, and her loss, while her sadness was for the loss of a life not yet lived, a path not taken. A path, I might add, that I had taken, lived and experienced. An uncertain future, with unknown goals or aspirations. A resistance to acceptance, with no other real option. Could she, would she, ever be happy? I had no answers.
When I cried after that phone call, that was pure empathy. Absorbing her grief. I suppose though, it was also mixed with sympathy. Absorbing her grief, and feeling sorry for her misfortune and my inability to make the situation any better. But I maintain I did not feel pity. I have always loved and admired my friend, exactly as she is. Although we have taken distinctly opposite paths in life, I have always enjoyed sharing in her journey, perhaps as a glimpse into the other side. She too, represented to me, a path not taken, a life unlived. That said, I didn’t grieve that path, as much as I envied it at times. I know it is different.
What my friend was not saying, when she said I didn’t really know or understand, that I couldn’t imagine, was that she feared I would pity her. That everyone would. She did not want to be perceived as a failure or as weak or broken or less than. And although I would never see her in this light, as she is undoubtedly one of the strongest most capable women I know, this is how she secretly felt inside, and worried others would see it too. Not to mention that when she shared in my journey in life, there was not only envy, but pain, and resentment. Through no fault of my own.
My friend had anger towards me for the life I had led that she had not. She knew her anger was misplaced and unfair, and that I don’t pity her. The truth is, she has self pity right now, so she is seeing the world through that lens. I wanted to reassure my friend that I am in this with her, that she isn’t alone, that I am invested and I care just as much as she does. And they’re pretty words, but ultimately not quite true. So instead, I let her cry, held space for her emotions, let her talk it out, and change the subject when she was ready, or too exhausted to talk about it further.
She didn’t need me to be empathetic or sympathetic and she certainly didn’t need my pity. She needed to feel loved and heard and supported, not pitied. She just needed a friend, a neutral safe space, and for me not to feel anything outwardly at all so she could process her own feelings and hear her own thoughts. So that’s what I’ll be. Enough. Not too much.
❤ Love,
Your Best Friend ForNever
xx
