I’m not talking about the form of childhood punishment in which the parents say “Go put your nose in the corner for 10 minutes. You need a time-out.” I’m talking about the life of one who seemingly-permanently sits in the corner (or the one who sits in the last seat at the table with no one across from them, the one who walks alone behind the group on the sidewalk, who fruitlessly tries to give more than they take, or who is continually cropped out of profile pictures. The one that has to make plans, to text first, to pop a squat on the floor because all of the couches are taken).
To outside eyes, that might seem like a pretty sad and lonely life. However, I’m here to tell you that there is much to learn from sitting in the corner, or stepping back and observing.
Everybody gets wedgies.
It’s true – whenever we get wedgies, our instinct is to hide as we pick at it by backing up into a place where we think people aren’t watching. This is as much true in the literal sense as it is as a metaphor: due to the fact that the corner-sitter is often overlooked, people often pick their wedgies in front of them, and similarly, people generally don’t mind venting to the corner-sitting friend who should be hardly differential and yet glad to be of use.
You can witness the most authentic side of another person while observing as a corner-sitter. In the literal sense, I have seen a hard-working sister enter the kitchen at 3:00 a.m. to wash the dishes because she couldn’t sleep and cleaning calms her down. I’ve seen my beautiful sisters walk past the mirror and then stop to look again, only to sigh as if they wish they could make a change. As the corner-sitting friend or the one on the outside, I’ve had sisters come to me first with their heartbreaks, disappointments, and innermost secrets. I’ve listened to the girl with a 4.0 genuinely worried that she might not pass a class, and I’ve held a sister – who seems to always have it together – in my arms while she cried about a boy. Although I may not be the first person people want to grab lunch with, I am glad that my sisters know that I’m here and they can talk to me.
You’re probably not the only friend that sits in the corner.
Often times, someone else is sitting in the corner of your friend group too. Speaking once more in the literal sense – at a party, for example, I’ve found that there’s always another sister in our group who trails off by herself, sitting on the edge of a crowded couch with a half-empty bottle of Pink Moscato in hand, leaning away from the person beside her. It’s not always the same sister, as everyone, at times, finds themselves a little detached – and that’s okay. One time, when I made plans with another sister (because I always have to), she responded with “I’m glad you asked. I’m tired of always having to be the one to make plans with people.” That is when I realized that I’m not always the only one in the corner.
You won’t be in the corner forever.
The dynamic of a friend group is determined by the personalities of the people within it. I’ve found that in some friend groups I’ve had over the years, I was never on the outside and I knew my place clearly. In others, however, I’ve definitely been the one that doesn’t quite fit, trying to figure out my role. Here’s the thing: God places people in our lives for a reason and a season. While you may feel like an outsider now, there is a reason why these people are your friends, or sisters. Maybe they need you in ways you’ll never see, or maybe you need them in ways you can’t see. Either way, there is a reason. And furthermore, there is a season. As Stephen Chbsoky put it, “Things change, friends leave. And life doesn't stop for anybody.” Your friend group will change, as will the part you play. It’s okay to be in the corner for a little while because everyone does. And you can trust me: sitting in the corner, among all else, is only temporary.
