Sorry, Texas. I guess I wasn't exactly the best representative for us back in the day.
I met Laura on my first day of school. We sat next to each other in Mrs. Kay's class, bonded over a game of Head's Up 7-Up and became even closer when we ganged up on the class bully by calling her Misty Underwear.
In hindsight, this was probably pretty traumatic for poor Misty, who kept that name throughout junior high (as far as I know anyway, we moved away at the end of my 8th grade year). But, in our defense, she was pretty terrible. I mean, really, really terrible. I sometimes imagine her as a 30 year old version of her second grade self even though she's probably a very kind person with a husband and 2.5 children and a pretty house with a white picket fence around it.
In hindsight, this was probably pretty traumatic for poor Misty, who kept that name throughout junior high (as far as I know anyway, we moved away at the end of my 8th grade year). But, in our defense, she was pretty terrible. I mean, really, really terrible. I sometimes imagine her as a 30 year old version of her second grade self even though she's probably a very kind person with a husband and 2.5 children and a pretty house with a white picket fence around it.
(so, if you're out there Misty Underwear, I'm terribly sorry, and I'd also like to apologize for the cardinal sin of extreme perming back then too, if that's at all possible)
I spent all of my time with Laura. At her house. Her at my house. Riding scooters. Riding bikes. Walking to and from school and then around town together after her mom started homeschooling them. At some point, we even got the same haircut, causing people to start referring to us as The Bobbsey Twins.
Things got weird in junior high. Because, I'm convinced the majority of kids are weird in junior high. Except there's always that one girl who manages to sail through puberty and come out looking flawless while the rest of us have braces and zits or make poor choices concerning makeup and hairspray.
Gone are the days of skipping to school or playing with Barbies and pretending you're princesses. Suddenly, you're self-conscious and smell funny. You care about being popular and thin. You try not to get hit in the face with the tether ball in PE, if you even dress out because you're freaked out by the prospect of letting everyone know you haven't gotten your first bra. Or worse, you had.
It was hard to be friends with her while I played softball and tennis and she was part of a homeschool co-op in another town. The older we got, the more her mom openly disliked me and the more Laura and I started realizing that we were moving in two different directions (and she started to kind of become a dirty hippy which let's be honest....ew).
(totally kidding)
(totally kidding)
High school wasn't much easier when it came to friendships. There was drama. There were boyfriends. There were boyfriends and pregnancy scares and abortions and drugs and alcohol and driving (it's okay mom and dad, none of these things happened to me...I waited until I at least graduated to get knocked up!) and jobs and gossip. The friends I had in high school are people I rarely see or talk to anymore. Most of them I wouldn't recognize in a crowd.
I thought that adulthood would be easier to navigate. Once I became a mom, I thought that all moms bonded in some kind of solidarity. Like, there would be the Oh My Gosh, I Just Had A Baby And I Am So Exhausted crowd. Or, the I Hate The Toddler Years group. The, Would Someone Make Him Stop Screaming gang. And my favorite, Sometimes I Want To Punch Them In The Face club.
(for the record, the SIWTPTITF moms are very honest and have a wonderful sense of humor, yet would never actually do it, just mention it in conversations overheard by a very sweet and innocent, but now traumatized four year old little girl)
(for the record, the SIWTPTITF moms are very honest and have a wonderful sense of humor, yet would never actually do it, just mention it in conversations overheard by a very sweet and innocent, but now traumatized four year old little girl)
All moms all across the world would hold hands and sing and we would all be grown-up friends because we'd all been weirdos in junior high and idiots in high school and having children would be the ONE thing on the planet that we could all agree on.
(yes, I know you're laughing hysterically here)
Except. They left this part out of the manual:
Navigating friendships once you're an adult is just as hard, if not harder. Because, it's not about who gets to play with Malibu Barbie this time, it's about who's breastfeeding and who isn't. There are real life issues involved. Death. Miscarriages. Divorces. There are milestones. There are celebrations and illnesses. And, finding your way through all of this new territory while trying to figure out who the hell you are and what the hell you want to do with your life is really tough sometimes.
We've bought into this idea that we're all supposed to be sophisticated and stylish. That we will have a group of girlfriends Sex & The City style or that we will gather together daily at some local coffee shop where hilarity ensues. We'd be characters in books like, Angry Housewives Eating Bon-Bons (favorite book ever, read it). And the truth is, for a while, we do have it in some form or another. It just doesn't last forever. We grow and change. We move forward or backward. Our kids are no longer friends. We move away or face tragedies that alter us forever.
This is where I've learned that holding on and letting go matter. That the friends you should hold on to are the ones who, even after everything, manage to find their way back to you again. You hang on to the friends that waited while your GPS accidentally rerouted you through the ghetto. You forgive and forget, because the history that you shared for a time is worth more than the energy you're spending carrying a grudge. And you learn to accept the fact that in time, it'll all work itself out or it won't.
Navigating friendships once you're an adult is just as hard, if not harder. Because, it's not about who gets to play with Malibu Barbie this time, it's about who's breastfeeding and who isn't. There are real life issues involved. Death. Miscarriages. Divorces. There are milestones. There are celebrations and illnesses. And, finding your way through all of this new territory while trying to figure out who the hell you are and what the hell you want to do with your life is really tough sometimes.
We've bought into this idea that we're all supposed to be sophisticated and stylish. That we will have a group of girlfriends Sex & The City style or that we will gather together daily at some local coffee shop where hilarity ensues. We'd be characters in books like, Angry Housewives Eating Bon-Bons (favorite book ever, read it). And the truth is, for a while, we do have it in some form or another. It just doesn't last forever. We grow and change. We move forward or backward. Our kids are no longer friends. We move away or face tragedies that alter us forever.
This is where I've learned that holding on and letting go matter. That the friends you should hold on to are the ones who, even after everything, manage to find their way back to you again. You hang on to the friends that waited while your GPS accidentally rerouted you through the ghetto. You forgive and forget, because the history that you shared for a time is worth more than the energy you're spending carrying a grudge. And you learn to accept the fact that in time, it'll all work itself out or it won't.
(I am desperate to use a sailing analogy here, but this blog post has already taken me two hours to finish because I can't be bothered to stop grooving to Sir Mix-A-Lot and Madonna long enough to think, so this is the end)
3 comments:
I love your description of a such a common life experience. It is in the heart that we are all so similar, even those of us without kids. We just don't often realize it.
This is just such a touching post in so many ways...
I agree with Jasmine. It isn't any easier if you don't have kids. The truth is that making friends as adults is even worse (who'd have thunk it) than it was when you were kids. It isn't at all like Sex and the City and people are busy. It is really hard to meet people who want to invest in someone new. And so many old friends are just so geographically distant and living such *different* lives that it gets harder and harder to connect.
Navigation... lots of people feel lost. I know I do... a lot.
I think you might have bugged my house when you were here. I was having this conversation less than a week ago. I'm older than you but I can tell you the navigating is still treacherous. Hold on tight.
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