Have you ever noticed how easy it is to start moping around feeling like the loneliest person on the planet this time of year? When you least expect it, moodiness springs out and grabs you – and that bad attitude makes you an easy target for toads. 

Toady Tidbit: Toads are always attracted to hidden emotional pain, they swoop in to rescue and then run away the minute you trust them.

Guess what...you and only you can snap yourself out of it. Besides, that gorgeous new blouse you plan to wear this weekend will clash pretty badly with that sourpuss face of yours if you don’t so something to cheer yourself up.

Are you asking yourself how I could know such a thing since I always seem to be sporting a smile and a healthy dose of happy? Honey, I wasn’t always able to walk with my head held high, and do you know why?

Because I lived in isolation and didn’t think I belonged to the in crowd. I hid behind a phony smile and I kissed every toad that looked my way hoping for a Prince to rescue me. And I never admitted the truth.....

...That I felt unworthy of friendship or love. And those feelings became a toad mating call. The more toads that answered my call, the stronger I burrowed myself into my safe haven of isolation. The courtship of toads became a vicious cycle that I couldn't ‘t escape. I couldn’t see that I was the common denominator in all of those past relationships.

Then one day, in my early 30’s, my doctor explained to me that the swelling in my wrist was not carpal tunnel and that steroid eye drops should help to avoid permanent damage to my sight. I felt my face go numb in shock. I barely heard the word Lupus - I collapsed into that doctors arms and she held me as I wept.

Manically searching for answers, I found myself wondering if my years of emotional seclusion made me more vulnerable to my own personal version of radioactive warts - autoimmune disease.

I could no longer deny my isolation. Here I was with a devastating diagnosis shaking my whole world and the only person there to hug me was the doctor delivering the news. At that moment, I realized a new and poignant ache - the longing for a friend.

Later that week, a co-worker offered me half of her tuna sandwich in the lunch room. Ellie noticed me sitting alone again, and she pulled up a chair. For some reason, this time I didn’t politely excuse myself from my table.

Tears came quickly as I realized in that moment that I hadn’t had lunch with a friend since I was an awkward teen-aged girl. That tuna sandwich was the start of the first real adult friendship I’d had, and an opportunity to heal.

Why am I telling you this? Because if you have read this far it is highly likely that you also have burrowed into that same loneliness that I lived with for the first 31 years of my life.

I was different and I knew it. - whether anyone else thought so or not. I can tell you that today I get a kick out of my quirkiness, but that wasn’t always the case. Today – 10 years and a half a tuna sandwich later – I am happy.

After learning to accept my own unique self, I am living a healthy life and making positive choices and surrounding myself with people that I love.

When Ellie offered to share her lunch with me and I humbly accepted her kindness, I learned a valuable lesson – everyone needs and deserves friends. But more importantly, I learned that if I wanted friends, I had to make room for them in my heart and in my life.

I also learned that once I started doctoring my own inner pain and coming to peace with all of the emotional heart aches in my past, that the toads didn’t find me so attractive anymore. The healthier I got, the fewer toads I had to kiss.

These days, I can’t eat a tuna sandwich without thinking of Ellie. I sometimes wonder if she feels the same way. It was such a small gesture on her part and yet it changed my whole life.

Next time you see a lonely person sitting by them-self, simply reach out in kindness. You never know what a difference you may make for another toad kisser out there.

Warm Regards,
Heidi Lee