“I think it’s no coincidence that when I used to want friends for what they could do for me—keep me company, make me laugh, help me with problems, ease my sadness—I had few friends. When my intentions changed and I started making friends based on my appreciation for whatever made that person unique, I found myself with more friends than I felt (and still feel), I rightfully deserved. Ironically, these friends now give me all the things I used to seek: they keep me company, they make me laugh, they help me with problems, and they ease my sadness.
Intentions and expectations are closely linked.”
Imagine you are going to throw a party. You make a list of fifty of your friends. You send out invitations to those fifty friends. How many do you reasonably expect will RSVP with a Yes? How many Maybes? How many with a No? And putting all that aside, on the day of the party, how many friends would you expect to actually show up? 45? 30? 20? 10? 1?
I’m going to estimate that most of you, being the modest and humble types you are, would guess around 25-30. Maybe a little less, maybe a little more, but I think most of us could reasonably count on at least half our friends most of the time.
This isn’t a test of friendship levels; it’s the prologue to a story of mine.
Way back when, in the olden times, when I was twenty-four, I decided to throw a big birthday…
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