I’m sure we all remember that enrichment toy for kids where you have to put the shapes through the shape-shaped holes to get them into the bin (can I call it an enrichment toy? I’m clearly not a parent). I have almost no memories from my childhood, but there is one that comes back to me every time I think of the shape toy. I don’t know where I was, but I was maybe two or three and I clearly remember sitting there, putting the triangle in, and then opening up the toy again to get the triangle out. Over and over. There was something about that triangle.

Fast forward to now and I can see that my love of triangles already existed back then. I can’t point to a specific reason that explains why I love triangles — it’s not like with the number nine, which is objectively the best number and I could give you a whole host of reasons as to why that is the case (nine is also three sets of three, so a triangle.. maybe that’s it) — there’s just something about triangles that gets at the heart of me.

Given this unexplainable (but very real) passion for triangles, I figured I would write a post of nebulous analogies connecting triangles to my life, how I see myself, and how I want to come to friendships. Will it make sense to you? Probably not. Will it make sense to me? Also probably not. But that’s part of the journey. Let’s see where this particular (triangle-shaped) road takes us.

I thought about doing a web search for “cool facts about triangles”, but decided not to because, well, I don’t have the facts lined up, so clearly these Schrödinger’s facts are not why I love triangles. Instead, I’ve just written what came to mind as I reflected on this marvelous shape:

These things are all cool, maybe even really cool, but you’re probably asking yourself: are they reason enough to love triangles?

Yes. The answer is yes. End of newsletter.

Just kidding. Here’s more.

The “Triangle of Self”. A stupid name, probably, but I wasn’t feeling particularly inspired when I came up with it. Maybe the “Isosceles of Introspection” or simply, “Being Obtuse” would’ve been better, but here we are.

This is my Triangle of self. Let me explain.

The three points of the triangle represent the three core components that I believe are central to defining who I am as a person, while the intersects within the purple circle represent how the components interact with each other. Here is how I define the core components:

Then there’s the big blank space in the middle of the triangle. It’s not empty — more on what I believe lives there in a bit.

So what does this triangle mean to me? Well, it is a simple way for me to visualize what core aspects of myself I am sharing in any given situation. Here’s an example:

I meet someone for coffee and we get into a conversation where they’re telling me about a cool new technology. Given my level of intelligence on that day, I’m able to understand the workings of the tech and find it fascinating. This stokes my curiosity, so I start asking questions to help me deepen my understanding.

In this example, I am seeking Learning by connecting my intelligence and my curiosity. If I were writing poetry and decided to try out a new poetic form I’d never used before, I’d be connecting my curiosity and my creativity and Exploring what was possible with the new form. This newsletter is me using my intelligence and creativity as a way of Problem-Solving as I endeavour to manage my mental health.

You probably have a triangle, too. Give it some thought and see if you can think of what your core components are. Maybe you’ll find you have more than 3; maybe you’re a diamond, or a star, or a hexagon (the bestagon) — maybe you’re a dodecahedron. Whatever defines you is unique to you, and no one knows better what shape you are.

This is how we shape ourselves.

You’re probably still wondering what’s in the middle. Or, perhaps, if you’re anything like me, you’d completely forgotten about that. Either way, let’s talk about the rest of the Triangle of Self. These three components — Intelligence, Curiosity, Creativity — are fundamental to my perception of existence. What I mean is that if I find myself in a situation where I’m not able to connect with any of them, I am likely to retreat into myself. Some situations where this often arises:

If you know about ADHD, you can probably see the connection to the three examples above.

What I have learned, using the Triangle of Self as a framework, is that, when it comes to friendships, I need to feel safe to be all three things. It doesn’t need to be all three at once, but each of my core components come along with their own set of vulnerabilities. I need friends who not only create space for me to share those vulnerabilities, but who also understand how their own shape might interact with mine.

In other words, I need to be able to be myself.

This probably seems like a rather simplistic conclusion, but for me this really, truly changes things. As I mentioned in my previous post, my lived experience taught me that being myself is not an option. Yet, here I am, writing an entire post that leads up to me concluding that I need to be myself.

And ho-LY does that feel like power. The last 30 years of my life have taught me that no matter what I do I’m going to be rejected by pretty much everyone. So if I’m going to be rejected by most people anyway, why the hell wouldn’t I be myself while doing it? In the few moments of clarity I have I am able to dredge up kind words for myself — words that remind me that I, in fact, am worthy of love, am a good friend, and am allowed to take up space. If I can connect those moments to my intelligence, curiosity, and creativity with more regularity, I can create a positive feedback loop that will further strengthen my sense of self-worth and help me armour up against the rejection sensitivity.

Triangles are the strongest shape. So strong, in fact, that we use them to build bridges. This is how I build myself a bridge. The chasm is vast but there’s something worth striving for on the other side:

Joy.

Joy. The heart of the triangle.

I tried other words for that spot — safety, vulnerability, peace, stability — but none of them were right.

Joy is electric. It is your nervous system telling you that every fibre of your being is connected to the moment you are in. Joy encompasses those other words: to be joyful is to feel safe. It is inherently vulnerable, yet you feel peace in it. To be joyful is to feel, in that moment, that nothing can shake your foundations.

So that’s it. I seek joy. I seek it in life, and I seek it in my friendships.

I’ll quickly clarify that, to me, happiness and joy are very different. Joy can exist in times of sadness. If someone I’m trying to develop a friendship with chooses to share that they are going through a hard time, I will share in their sadness, but, at the same time, I will feel joy that they trusted me enough to let me in. I will feel connected to them.

Joy is fundamental to connection. It’s that invisible part of the triangle that makes sure the whole thing keeps it shape.

I seek joy.

Anyway, here’s a poem for today. It’s called lately.