YOU ARE NOT INVITED!

Friendships, especially those we hold dear, often come with unspoken expectations. So when those expectations aren’t met, it can be surprising, even painful. I recently found myself in such a situation — one that left me reflecting on the meaning of friendship and the grace it sometimes requires.

It began when I came across pictures of his wedding. The happiness radiating from the images was unmistakable — a celebration of love and new beginnings. But as I scrolled through, I felt a pang of surprise and hurt. I hadn’t been invited.

He was someone I had called a friend — a person with whom I had shared conversations, laughter, and even dreams about the future. I remembered one conversation in particular, where we joked about “logistring” his wedding, much like I had helped with a mutual brother. At the time, the idea of being part of his big day felt like a given. But now, faced with the reality of not being there, I couldn’t help but wonder why.

For a moment, it stung. Questions lingered: Had our friendship changed? Did I misread its depth? Why wasn’t I included?

And then, as I reflected, I couldn’t help but think of all the little joys I had missed. I sat there, imagining the small chops, the smoky jollof rice, and all the other mende mende weddings are known for. It was almost amusing, realizing that I wasn’t just missing the event — I was missing the experience, the flavors, and the communal laughter that weddings bring.

But as the initial emotions settled, I began to see things differently. Weddings are deeply personal events, shaped by a myriad of considerations — budget, family dynamics, or the simple desire to keep things intimate. These decisions, while meaningful to those making them, aren’t always clear to those on the outside.

I realized it wasn’t about me. It wasn’t a rejection of our friendship or a sign that I had done something wrong. It was simply the reality of his life and choices. And when I accepted that, something shifted within me.

I stopped focusing on the absence of an invitation and instead focused on the joy I saw in those pictures. His happiness, after all, was what truly mattered. I prayed for his new union, wishing him the best in this new chapter of his life.

This experience reminded me that friendship isn’t always about inclusion in every milestone. It’s about celebrating someone else’s happiness, even from a distance. It’s about letting go of expectations and holding on to the bond that still exists, however, it may look in the moment.

So, to my friend: I wasn’t there on your special day, but I celebrate you nonetheless. I’m rooting for your joy and praying for your success.

Friendships, like life, have their complexities. But when we approach them with understanding and grace, we open ourselves to the beauty of letting go — and holding on in the ways that truly matter.

Why am I sharing this?
In truth, writing is my therapy. It has helped me weave out complex emotions and, like a canvas, paint my feelings in colours. The other truth is this: I never want to forget.