For many years, I was the errand friend. My friends needed to run errands and called me to see if I wanted to go with them. It was nice for a while. We’d wake up, grab coffee or breakfast, then run along to various stores like Target or Marshalls to find that super specific comforter they were looking for. Or have an idea in mind when entering the store and then end up aimlessly walking up and down aisles. I was the friend in charge of keeping them on track to buy what they needed. All was well, until it wasn’t.
Let’s start with the good things. I considered myself to be a quality time person. I loved any time I could spend with my friends. Even if it was a quick coffee meetup or a short walk in the park. Anytime someone called, I felt like the chosen friend. I thought, Wow, this person wants to spend time with me? I feel so special. I thought that was all I needed. But after a while, I realized something. They were only calling me to run errands. And they only considered their schedule, not mine.
It made me question everything. I wondered why I had accepted this treatment and why I was always willing to accommodate their schedule and abandon my own. Then, it hit me. Growing up I didn’t have close friends in the way others did. Sure, sometimes I had people to hang out with. It felt better than not having people around at first. But people didn’t get to know me on a deep level. I listen to alternative music, and my friends at the time weren’t into it. I believed I had to hide my interests. Shame took over me because the things I enjoyed weren’t conventional or well-liked. My vulnerability was the smallest layer of the Russian doll screaming to be seen, but all people ever saw was the outer layer. I would be invited to events but for entertainment purposes. I used to put on a front and be the life of the party. The guests would talk to me, but they didn’t want to get to know me. I realized all I ever desperately wanted was for people to understand me.
Once I came to this conclusion, I started searching for events and inviting my errand friends. They had no interest in going to those events and did not sugarcoat it. That’s when it all sunk in. I was their catch up friend who listened to all their problems. They would hear me rant about my childhood experiences, but weren’t much better than the friends I grew up with. I considered them my everything friends because I thought that’s all I needed at the time; coffee, time spent together, and the idea of someone understanding me. After several more long days of errands, life updates, and simple things, I knew I deserved more. I could tell they also wished I enjoyed traveling as much as they did. Disconnect was all I could feel during our last few hangouts.
Eventually, those friendships ended. And I soon met people who shared interests. I felt free. Errands weren’t the only time spent together. My new friends and I now go to pop-up Gothic markets and dance classes. We’re all on EventBrite looking for places to go and are on a mission to try new experiences. I stopped settling for lack of depth within relationships. I still run errands with my friends, but it doesn’t feel like a chore anymore. My new friends and I can all relate to being misunderstood and staying places they don’t belong for way too long. So when we found each other, it was not only relief, but alignment.
Myshara Whittington is a dark literature enthusiast, a poet, and creative non-fiction writer from Rhode Island. In 2024, she obtained her B.A. in English with a concentration in Creative Writing from Rhode Island College. She has a recent publication in The Anchor, RIC’s student newspaper, highlighting library staff and their contributions to serving the community. When she’s not writing, you can find her advocating for the POC alternative community and library users.
Featured image by Devin Avery on Unsplash.
