Want to test your friendships? I have devised the perfect formula

A couple of weeks ago, in my local shopping mall, I ran into three different women I know. Well, to be more accurate, I didn’t actually run into them. I ran away from one, I ignored a second, and I ran towards a third.

The first woman – I’ll call her Libby, which isn’t her name – was a friend of a friend, someone I’ve known for years but don’t especially love. I caught a glimpse of Libby heading towards me as I walked to a café, and I literally ducked into a bookshop to avoid her.

To avoid making social arrangements I’ll later regret, I imagine bumping into the person at the shops.Credit: ISTOCK

It was silly, I know. But had I kept on walking, Libby and I would have been forced to acknowledge each other, and we would have had an awkward encounter, and neither of us would have enjoyed it, and, honestly, I just wanted to go and get my coffee.

I saw the second woman – I’ll call her Beryl, which is definitely not her name – while I was ordering my cappuccino. Beryl is a distant friend, someone I’ve caught up with once or twice over the years, and a perfectly pleasant person. I could have stopped and had a chat – one of those “Hi, how are you?” “Good, and you?” exchanges – but she is very talkative, and I still hadn’t had my coffee, and I just couldn’t be bothered having a conversation. So I casually ignored Beryl and kept my eyes on the barista until I could see in my peripheral vision that she had moved on.

Once I’d finished my coffee, and was heading to the supermarket, I spotted a close friend – this one I’ll call Mandy, because it’s her real name – on the other side of the corridor. Without a moment’s hesitation, I raced over to say hi. I love Mandy, she’s one of my closest friends, and I would cross a busy shopping mall to chat to her any day.

I thought of these encounters a few days later, when I was invited out to lunch by a fairly new friend. (I’ll call her Michelle.) The lunch sounded like something I’d very much enjoy putting in my diary, but which I wasn’t sure if I’d enjoy actually attending.

There are people I absolutely adore, people I strongly dislike, and a great many people about whom I feel ambivalent.

KERRI SACKVILLE

Often, plans sound really fun to me ahead of time, and not at all fun when I wake up on the day, and need to get dressed and leave my house. I tend to assume that my future self will be far more sociable than my present self, and make excessively optimistic plans for this improved future me. And then the date of the arrangement arrives, and I am still my same old self, and I don’t want to go at all.

I’d love to be one of those delightful people who likes pretty much everyone and is universally adored in return. (My friend Mandy – actual name – is one of those people, and I find her equal parts aspirational and perplexing.)

Unfortunately, I am getting less tolerant as I get older, and choosier about the people I wish to spend my time with. There are people I absolutely adore, people I strongly dislike, and a great many people about whom I feel ambivalent.

Do I actually want them in my life, I wonder, or are they there out of circumstance or history? Do I genuinely wish to spend quality time with them, or am I making plans out of habit or obligation? More importantly, will I be keen to see them on the day the arrangement rolls around, or will I prefer to stay home on my couch?

Well, bumping into those three women helped me to figure it out. I invented the shopping mall test.

The shopping mall test is an exercise in imagination. To avoid making social arrangements I’ll later regret, I imagine bumping into the person at the shops. Would I actively avoid them, passively ignore them, or call out their name and say hi? If I realise I’d be tempted to duck into a bookstore as they approach, I will not agree to meet up.

When my new friend Michelle invited me to meet her for lunch, I ran the shopping mall test in my head. I decided I’d be delighted to run into her, anywhere and anytime, and so I happily agreed to the plans.

The shopping mall test – avoid, ignore or approach – helps me to protect my future self from aggravation. Why bother arranging to meet up with someone two weeks from now if I wouldn’t want to run into them today?

Of course, there are people with whom I am obliged to spend time because they are part of my social network. But if I can avoid them, my time is freed up for people I’d gladly run across the shopping mall to see. And this is healthy! Life is short! We all should be more discerning with our time! We should only make plans with the people we really like!

But as I ponder the shopping mall test, and remember ducking into that bookstore, I wonder: Who is avoiding me?

Get the best of Sunday Life magazine delivered to your inbox every Sunday morning. Sign up here for our free newsletter.