I used to have friends. I had a lot. In fact, if I log back into Facebook I have thousands. But do I really?

Mostly now I have dogs. I have some family that checks in on me from time to time. I can go 48 hours without hearing from a single person… except the delivery guy from Red Dragon (did you know you can add doggie treats to your online order on their app???).

I have a comfortable house. Two, actually. A car that runs consistently. I have more sh*t than I know what to do with (expect a yard sale this spring). But do I have friends? No tribe. No band of compadres. What happened? Did I trade them all for a man who left me in the dust? Or did I just grow away from them, from the high school sports games and internal gossip where I was easily the subject of scandal due to my tumultuous dating status and history of poor choices. I’ve got my vet boys, and I love them dearly. But I’m more like a den mother than one of the gang. Not really how I envisioned that going. I’ve got my fire tribe but they’re in hibernation. Weird how family can be seasonal.

So I have dogs. Am I a failure?

I checked out of social media for the month of January. All social media. Facebook, Instagram, Tik Tok, Snapchat (which proved to be problematic since it’s the only way my youngest communicates). Do you know what I have missed the most about all of it? Absolutely nothing. Not a thing. Sometimes I think it would be nice to check Facebook marketplace for something I need for the house or because I have sh*t to sell, and then I remember the part where I have to coordinate a meet up with an actual person and I change my mind post haste. I don’t miss the petty updates and political posturing. I don’t even miss the memes (I get plenty of those in the Team TEDD chat). But I have realized that all those apps filled a void in my life, a space that would normally be filled with real people and relationships. A space that sits empty now. Not a hopeful kind of empty, like I will find the ones to fill it, just a knowing, content empty. Like this is who I am now. I live with a space inside of me. A hollowness. I don’t expect to find a tribe. I’ve looked - I’ve tried to find a pub to frequent, or a few girls to glom on to, nothing clicks. Maybe I am too old to conform to a groove that isn’t mine. I’m not saying that it’s a total rule out situation, I’m just saying, like romantic love, I am not convinced it’s in the cards for me to every really belong somewhere, to someone, in a tribe. I used to think not belonging would kill me, and in some ways maybe it has, but no matter how lifeless I feel inside, life goes on, and I continue to exist.

Am I a failure? I don’t feel like I’ve failed. In some ways I feel accomplished. Maybe I have done what I was here to do. Maybe the rest is just a coast until the finish line, whenever that is. The idea of not focusing on the outcome comes at a convenient time, when I can’t really even imagine an outcome. I am just here. Day by day. Passing time. Taking up space. With dogs.