Comet Friends and Lighthouse Friends
The woman at the book club gathering has warm eyes and that particular energy of someone assembling their people. "We should get brunch!" she says, already pulling out her phone. "I'll add you to the group text - we try to meet every other Sunday, and sometimes we do wine nights, and there's this whole thread about reality TV that you'll love."
She's creating obligations in real-time, adding me to systems that will generate demands: respond to texts, show up at scheduled times, perform consistent friendship.
She's reading my femme presentation, my relational warmth, the way I've been listening intently to her story about her mother, and she's constructing a particular kind of friend in her mind. Someone whose care translates into reliable presence.
She has no idea she's talking to a comet - or that comets run on PDA (pathological demand avoidance/pervasive drive for autonomy) physics.
The Misread
The warmth I radiate is real - I genuinely care about this woman's mother and the way her voice catches when she talks about anticipatory grief.
What she'll get in our friendship, if our lives continue to intersect, is someone who disappears for six months (because maintaining regular contact became a demand I couldn't meet) who then shows up for a three-hour conversation that restructures her entire understanding of grief. Someone who won't come to weekly brunch but will answer at 2 AM if her world implodes (crisis removes the demand structure - I can show up fully).
The PDA element makes this especially complex: I WANT to be her friend. But the moment that want becomes a should - "I should go to brunch" - my autonomic nervous system stages a revolt. The demand-avoidance isn't rudeness or lack of care. It's involuntary.
The Self-Pathologizing Years
Before I understood PDA, I thought I was fundamentally broken at friendship. Every group text felt like being slowly buried alive.
I watched other people maintain friendships with consistency. Meanwhile, I was operating on completely different physics: the more someone expected reliable contact, the less capable I became of providing it.
The shame was excruciating and specific. It wasn't just "I'm bad at friendship" - it was "I'm so fundamentally selfish that normal human connection feels like prison." Every missed text wasn't just forgotten; it was actively avoided, then buried under mounting anxiety about the avoidance itself. The PDA spiral: can't respond because it's a demand → anxiety about not responding creates bigger demand → complete system shutdown.
The Physics Recognition
Understanding PDA changed everything. It wasn't moral failure - it was neurological difference. My nervous system reads any expectation as threats to autonomy.
Lighthouse friends operate on steady-state energy and reliable presence. They thrive in systems: group texts and standing dates. Their care expresses through consistency - they're always visible from shore. This isn't lesser or greater friendship, but a different role entirely.
Comet friends - especially PDA comets - operate on freedom-based physics. We appear when we can, not when we should. We're brilliant when we pass through precisely because it's voluntary, not obligatory.
The Comet Friend Specialty (With Caveats)
Once I understood my PDA-comet physics, I could see what I actually offer - but also what I need to be careful about.
I'm a crisis friend precisely because crisis removes the demand structure. There's no protocol for catastrophe. But I've learned to watch for something: am I only showing up for intensity? Some people need both crisis support AND someone who remembers their schedule. Being a crisis friend doesn't excuse me from recognizing when someone needs lighthouse stability I can't provide - and helping them find it elsewhere.
I'm a paradigm-shift friend because deep conversations can't be demanded. They arise organically, often without warning. But transformation without follow-through can be its own kind of harm. If I drop revelations then disappear - for someone in fragile state, that absence might destabilize more than the revelation helped.
The PDA paradox: I care deeply but cannot perform care on demand. This is real neurological limitation, not preference. I've had to learn the difference between PDA-driven absence and conflict avoidance.
Finding Your Orbit (Without Apology or Excuse)
My partner understands my PDA-comet nature. We’ve also negotiated. The difference between "cannot" and "will not without support" matters.
Finding my people meant finding others who understand demand-avoidance isn't rudeness - but also being honest when I'm using PDA as cover for avoidance that isn't neurological.
The Recognition (With Nuance)
I spent decades thinking I was selfish, avoidant, and fundamentally broken at human connection. Understanding PDA-comet physics freed me from that shame. But freedom requires responsibility: knowing the difference between neurological limitation and chosen avoidance, between physics and preference.
Some people need lighthouse friends - steady and reliable. Their need for consistency isn't less valid than my need for autonomy. Others need comet friends who appear when ordinary structures break down. Both are real friendship, operating on different parameters.
My PDA isn't a friendship defect. But it does require rigorous honesty: Am I disappearing because of PDA or because I'm avoiding difficulty? Am I only showing up for crisis because intensity feeds me, or because that's when demands dissolve? Am I being clear about my limitations, or letting people blame themselves for my absence?
I'm not your brunch friend or group text friend. I'm your "everything shattered and I need someone" friend. I'm learning to be honest about the cost of comet physics - for me and for those who might need a lighthouse I cannot be.
Some relationships end because I cannot maintain them. Others end because I will not. Knowing the difference matters.
Comets with PDA run on radical autonomy. We burn bright when we choose to pass through. Try to capture us in regular orbit, and we fade entirely. That's not a failure of friendship. It's physics that most friendship models never account for. But physics isn't an excuse for harm - it's an explanation that requires us to be even more intentional about the connections we can sustain.
The moment you stop expecting comets to be lighthouses, you might notice how bright we burn when we're actually there. If you're a comet and can accept that without self-pathologizing, you might notice how to burn without leaving only ash in your wake.