When my brother Nick was around six years old, he had a problem with saying things he didn’t mean. And he would go hard. For example, one time he told me, “I wish you weren’t my sister.”
She marched me, suitcase in hand, into Nick’s room and announced that his wish had been granted! She was putting me up for adoption.
My mom heard him and decided to one-up him. Instead of washing his mouth out with soap like a normal boomer, she told me to pack some clothes. Then, she marched me, suitcase in hand, into Nick’s room and announced that his wish had been granted! She was putting me up for adoption.
Thankfully, Nick’s eyes didn’t glimmer with a lust for power like Gollum’s as he held the ring. (I’m not sure what she would’ve done if he’d offered to help me pack.) The bluff worked. Alarmed by Mom’s overreaction, Nick quickly said something like, “Well, uh, Mom, I like where your heart is, but that won’t be necessary. Maybe you could just put her in a kennel or something.”
The other day, I was reading an article — well, watching an Instagram reel — and someone said, “Being annoyed is the price you pay for community.”
Read that again.
More than ever today, we crave close relationships, people who show up, a village. Yet so many people are still lonely. I wonder if this is because many of us have isolated ourselves from anyone who annoys or frustrates us.
The rise in mental health awareness (which I am so grateful for), especially as it’s communicated on social media, has been accompanied by an unintended and potentially damaging side effect: sometimes, therapy terms are misunderstood and misapplied. We encounter people who are occasionally irritating or flawed and we decide to avoid them completely, calling it a “boundary.”
The problem is that if you get close enough to anyone, you’ll find big flaws: micromanagers, gossipers, judgers, flakers, one-uppers — the list goes on. To be clear, I love boundaries. I’m not saying we should tolerate abuse or dysfunction or even leave someone’s irritating traits unaddressed. I am saying that if you cut out everyone who you find annoying, you will eventually find yourself alone.
Hebrews 10:24–25 says, “Spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another…”
A spur in your side is annoying. That micromanager, though, may be the person who faithfully shows up when you have to plan Vacation Bible School every summer. The overly sensitive person may be the one you need to hold you as you grieve a miscarriage. They may find they need you, despite your annoying traits. For the community you build, annoyance is a small price to pay.
Anneliese Stock
Allie is a 2012 ARISE graduate and on-staff writer and communications assistant for Light Bearers. She is fascinated by the intersection of faith and the creative process and enjoys poetry. When she’s not watching a good movie with her friends, she enjoys narrating life with mediocre accents.
