Enmeshed but Alone
Dear Inklings,
A few months ago, I wrote about the loss of deep friendships in our pursuit of independence, in which I discussed the problem of growing loneliness in western societies and propose that we start prioritising our friendships.
Today, I’m building on the previous essay and taking a look at the opposite end of the spectrum—the downside of extreme loyalty—an issue I see primarily in collectivistic cultures. No, I haven’t changed my mind that friendships should be given greater weight, but rather, pointing out that even in collectivistic societies where families and friends live much more intertwined lives, loneliness is still prevalent. It’s not so much a counter-argument than a consideration of how we can go from showing up for our friends to forming those deep soul-connections we’re longing for.
Dr. James F. Richardson’s newest book,Our Worst Strength, examines the hidden costs of western society’s fixation on individualism through a blend of extensive research from his work as an anthropologist and personal experience. His unique experience of living in India for a period of time provides an interesting case study for the contrast between individualistic and collectivistic cultures.
In his book, he quotes a Tamil poet:
“There is nothing worse than rash friendships. For friends once made can’t be abandoned.”
He then goes on to write about the reciprocal nature of Tamil friendships, and the extremes friends will go on each other’s behalf. It’s portrayed as a wonderful example of the kind of support we dream about when we think about friends.
I had a conversation with one of my godsisters once. A mutual friend had married a white man, and she described the way this friend’s in-laws provide help without expectation of reciprocation. My godsister marveled at how uncommon that was for us in our culture, especially in our parents’ generation—when help is given, it is viewed as a transaction—one that must be returned at some point.
This unspoken rule of accepting support caused all manner of drama even within our godfamily: favours that weren’t returned the way the giver expected, returned favours that failed to meet the level of the original service rendered, etc. Misunderstandings abounded.
Cue: shame, guilt, and fear.
One could never be quite certain what would be expected if they reached out. And so, it became much simpler to keep needs to oneself.
When I was sick once, not too long after getting married, my mother-in-law cooked soup for me. For years afterward, whenever M and I did something she did not approve of, she would bring up that damned soup: “I made soup for Tiffany once, but now she won’t do as I say.”
Kindness given was not meant as a kindness in and of itself, but only a deposit in the bank, to be withdrawn at a future date.
Growing up, my parents ingrained a strict do-not-ask-for-help-EVER-because-we-solve-problems-within-the-family in me. My godsister has described this same rule in her own family.
The transactional nature of relationships can lead to lack of emotional connection when friendships are viewed as a series of reciprocal favours.
People hesitate to share their deepest struggles, for fear of incurring “debt.” This can lead to feelings of resentment and obligation rather than the genuine give-and-take foundational to a trust-based relationship.
Enmeshed but still alone: “the sacredness of privacy”
Richardson mentions the sacredness of privacy a number of times throughout his book. We all agree to mind our own business, and in return, we get to have our freedom.
“The sacredness of privacy in American culture requires us to bury our personal traumas and failures, to confess them to no one (or much later when something in our lives blows up). [. . .] The sacredness of privacy makes it impossible for society to prevent needless trauma at the individual level. Most of us don’t grant society the authority to edit our personal wanderings in advance, which is when guidance is most beneficial. Society intervenes mainly in reaction to individual moves.
This is not only an American problem, but an Asian one as well. Oh, we Asians can get all up in each other’s business, but in a way that is shallow. We might know who’s going to which university, be unafraid to tell someone they’re getting too fat (while also being offended if they don’t eat all your cooking with enough relish), who’s dating, getting married, or getting divorced—but behind closed doors, we have no idea what’s going on. Even worse, we don’t know what that person is really thinking or feeling about any of it.
On the surface, collectivistic communities may appear close-knit, but there exists the potential for isolation and loneliness—perhaps on an even more complex level, due to the appearance of closeness. Despite integral involvement in each other’s daily lives, the lack of deeper emotional connection is striking.
There is an obsession with solving problems “within the family,” but what happens when the family is unhealthy and toxic?
Just like in James’ criticism of American individualism, the need to keep those shameful secrets hidden can lead to an explosion when it’s already too late. It’s the sacredness of privacy, but within a family rather than an individual.
When loyalty becomes a trap
In my previous essay, I cited a lack of commitment as a reason why friendships have lost the depth and poignancy of previous generations. However, let’s talk about this in context of Asian relationships and the flip side: extreme loyalty.
Going back to James’ quote, “There is nothing worse than rash friendships. For friends once made can’t be abandoned,” This statement sums up how Asians tend to view relationships in general. It’s how I thought of friendships for most of my life as well, because in my mind, “true” friends must remain friends for life.
As you can imagine, this mentality has the insidious potential to entrap us in relationships we should have long abandoned. One reason why friendships in modern society are ended with too much ease is the citing of “boundaries” for any minor friction. However, when loyalty is the most essential ingredient to a long-lasting friendship, it can blind us to unhealthy dynamics and lead to the opposite problem.
In some cases, the expectation of unwavering loyalty can make it difficult for individuals to set healthy boundaries or prioritise their own needs, contributing to a sense of being overwhelmed or emotionally drained, further adding to feelings of isolation. Loyalty alone without accompanying openness and communication is just another kind of loneliness.
What can we do about our friendships?
So if the answer can’t be found in any culture, then what?
James Richardson proposes a couple of solutions in his book, including asking for help more (putting reciprocity back into adult friendships) and engaging in group confrontation so there’s active group involvement in an individual’s life. But one suggestion he listed has the potential for friendships to transcend both our unwillingness to invest wholly in people and the tendency to remain stuck in transactional dynamics. “Ritualize failure in life.”
“We need to find ways for a person’s social network to gather together and help that person grieve whatever loss has struck them. We have to stop avoiding people in these periods of their lives. We must stop letting people self-isolate when we know they are grieving something.”
In other words, be willing to be vulnerable and support others in their vulnerability.
Here are some of my own recommendations:
Engage in more than small talk. We all know this, but most of us are abysmal at it, including me. I’m not talking about trauma-dumping, but rather, talking about what matters and asking questions that go beyond, “What’s your job?”. A better one might be, “If money wasn’t an obstacle, what job would you choose?”
Define the relationship. I won’t lie; this can be an awkward one, but will also save a lot of time. We do this for romantic relationships, so why not for friendships? It helps when two people know where they stand with each other. Check in every once in awhile to ensure you’re on the same page.
Related to the previous point, communicate clearly and frequently about what you both expect from the friendship. This will change over time and through the seasons, but if you know from the beginning that someone only wants you as an occasional hangout buddy, then you know not to call them at 12AM with a personal crisis.
Loneliness is not confined to individualistic cultures, as some may erroneously conclude; it is pervasive across societies for a myriad of reasons. With willingness to examine what holds us back from going deeper, we can peel back those layers and reimagine life with friendship at the center rather than the periphery. By embracing vulnerability, setting healthy boundaries, and fostering genuine connections, we can create a world where deep, soul-nourishing friendships are the norm, rather than the exception.