Why Do We Start Friendships With Trauma Dumps? 

I recently made a new friend. We sat down at the bar of my favorite local taco joint, ordered the seasonal margarita like the genx women we are, and then launched into our baggage. 

Her: Hi. I’m a recently widowed finance chick with two baby daddies and a shopping addiction. 

Me: Awesome. I’m in a complicated dumpster fire marriage situation, spend most days stoned, and you will probably end up as a character in one of my blog posts. 

Deep breath. 

And this is where we decide if our trauma is acceptable to one another (don’t worry we did) and order more than just an appetizer. 

It’s like this weird version of dating that only makes sense to women of a certain age. 

Because here’s the thing, we don’t have time anymore to like hang out, then find out each others deepest secrets, decide if we are politically and also socially a match… it’s too much. 

So we just trauma dump everything to each other, but is that the best way? 

I feel like lately, as I’ve been putting more and more of my life out on the internet, the whole world is seeing more than just the shiny version of me, and what happens when they can’t handle all the trauma dumping? 

Which is why I think when we meet new people we just put it all out there. 

Honestly this all goes back to worth, right? Knowing our own worth. Like, am I worth dealing with my insane mess of a real life? Do people want to be friends with me when they find out I have way more insanity going on than most normies?

Which makes me question even that— are there some of us that are just better at hiding this than others?

And is that what makes us “worth” having around? The more I think about worth (don’t read this out loud, the word will lose all meaning to you and none of this will make any sense— trust me.) the more I question its existence at all. 

Is my therapist right when she says worth is in the eye of the beholder? Yeah. But then that changes everything. 

Because then the only thing that really matters is self worth. Which means our traumas shouldn’t be a part of our friendships at all. Except that they are— and honestly without them, we wouldn’t be the magical rainbow fairy people that we are… so maybe it’s all worthy. 

Huh. 

*I made up her details because I’m not a jerk.