That depends. I worked with a man once who was so needy that his conversation was nearly a constant stream of self-deprecating wisecracks, clever but oh-so-tiresome because what they said over and over was “look at me-me-me.” He managed to make everything about him, even software project team meetings, for heaven’s sake. It was just a drain on everyone’s resources because it took so much energy to withstand his incessant demands for attention and keep refocusing. His entertaining wit was not enough of a payoff for the ceaseless drag on our momentum. All of us had concerns in the project and stresses on our performance, as well as the personal things that everybody had, and he just required more of all the others than they should have had to constantly give.
Outside of meetings where I was required to interact with him, such as at company social events and casual hallway encounters, I did avoid him. And in meetings I kept a straight face at his wisecracks even when they were funny. I felt as if I were being held hostage to his insatiable need. No amount of attention I could have given would have made any difference.
Not so with friends. We freely expose our needs, bare our fears, and display our insecurities in exchange for one another’s kind support and indulgence, trusting in the reciprocity of our fellowship and long association, which is how the love of friends expresses itself, irrespective of the specific list of faults we might have. Reciprocity is the key, that and knowing enough about who you’re with to understand the other person’s limits and not ask for too much. A reasonable degree of sensitivity to one another is essential, and a self-absorbed person, whether insecure or overconfident, lacks that sensitivity.