maybe isolation isn't so great

I'm fairly antisocial--always have been, and probably always will be. I've forced myself to become more social at work, however, because I realized I would probably only be able to get so far in my career if I kept avoiding lunches, happy hours and team activities the way I did for the first few years in my company. So, now I keep a list of people with whom I should keep in touch, and I periodically have lunch with them or send them emails. This might sound cold and robotic, but it's the only thing I can do to keep relationships top of mind. Many people would say I'm cold and robotic anyway.

Outside of work (and my marriage, of course), I have no friends locally. Not a single one. Well, maybe I talk to a few people at school, but I've never done anything with them socially. I can count on one hand the number of times I've invited guests over (family excluded). As for neighbors, I don't know any of their names, and always walk out the door hoping I won't run into them. When I think of my dream home, I usually picture a large home surrounded by a moat, electrically charged barbed-wire fences and land mines. Attack dogs would be set loose at the first sign of visitors. Yes, I really do like the idea of neighbors.

Having no friends does, believe it or not, have certain benefits. I save a lot of money by not going to dinner, entertaining people or doing any of the things that one might do with a friend. In those rare moments when I have free time, I can do exactly what I want. It's rare that I get invited to do anything, so I don't have to worry about my free time being encroached upon, either. The amount of control I have over my life has become quite intoxicating.

Sometimes this isn't so great. Sometimes I realize that my robotic methods of keeping in touch with people have their limits. A colleague's recent wedding is a case in point. I had forgotten that she (we'll call her Liz) was getting married last Saturday when another mutual friend (we'll call her Rachel) asked me a few days before the wedding which table I'd be sitting at. Rachel was shocked when I told her that I hadn't received an invitation to the wedding. Her shock quickly turned to anger, and she started talking about ways she could broach the subject delicately with Liz. I told her that she needn't bother, and that I figured Liz probably wanted to keep her wedding small. Not inviting a bunch of people from work would be a great way to accomplish that, after all. Inside, however, my feelings were really hurt, despite the fact that I hate weddings and probably wouldn't have attended anyway. I thought that Liz and I were good friends, and that that would have warranted at least an invitation.

Why would this hurt my feelings? I am, after all, anti-social and fairly introverted. You see, I've known Liz, the bride, since her first day at the company. I was her supervisor. I trained her in, and taught her everything I knew. As a boss, I was a bit of a hard ass, and I made her cry--more than once--in the beginning. She probably thought that working for me was like being sent to a labor camp in Siberia. We got to be friends, though. Liz came to respect my methods and ways of doing things, and when she was promoted to my level, she did many of the same things with her direct reports. In a way, she's like my work "daughter", and I've been really proud of her as I've watched her "grow up" and become respected in the organization. I've also had the pleasure of mentoring my "grandson"--one of her direct reports--for the past couple of years. Liz and I haven't worked together for almost four years, but we still have lunch occasionally (yes, she's on my list) and she sometimes contacts me for career advice. I think there's a lot of mutual respect between us. Ultimately, however, maybe I'm just a colleague. A former manager. Someone that's good to know, but only at work.

I may not show my feelings very often, but that doesn't mean that I don't have them. I'm usually quite fine with my social life and friendships as they are, but this hurt pretty bad. Only I can change the situation, but changing years of habit is easier said than done.