I often wonder if there is something inherently wrong with me, making me unable to forge a strong bond with another woman. Sure, I've had friends throughout my adulthood, people to gab, gossip and hang with on holidays. But have I found that one person whom I totally click with? That I feel comfortable with, can tell anything to? Someone who totally gets me and all of my phobias and quirks and does not find it necessary to joke about/make fun of/trivialize them? Someone who understands that as much as I want to, I can't just pick up and go for lunch or a movie because of said phobias and quirks?
I lived in a gorgeous neighborhood in the Tampa area for 9 years and in all that time I never found a true friend. What I mostly found were people who would rather talk about one another behind each other's backs, cause marital problems, sometimes even divorce. They were always good for a laugh or a back-stab or a drinking buddy. I like to laugh, but I have a problem with being a two-faced bitch and hey, I don't drink either.
Every other day it would be something new to talk about on one of our driveways.
Don't tell so and so I told you this but...
Did you hear what so and so did the other night?...
Please promise not to say a word, but I think so and so is a horrible mother...
For 9 years, these were my "friends". I haven't heard from most of them since, nor have I felt the need to keep in touch with them. Hey, I'm no longer involved in the gossip so there's nothing to say.
When we moved here to St. Augustine I didn't have much hope of finding anything different. And guess what? I was right!
Same stuff, different location. It was like I was meeting the same exact people but with different facades. Here's the same (but different) party house, here's the same (but different) social butterfly, here's the (same but different) one who will tell you everyone's business but swear you to secrecy as she flits to the next person to swear them to secrecy.
And the same hurtful scenario I came across in Tampa was right here in St. Augustine as well!
So and so says, "Oh my God, I have got to lose some weight. I am soooo fat! I have to lose at least 5 pounds. I look to my right and blink my eyes. I look to my left and blink my eyes. Are these women fucking kidding me? They're standing there, right in front of me... me who is extremely overweight, and bitching about how FAT they are? They wear a bikini and look kick-ass in it but they're FAT? If they're fat, what the fuck am I? And how do they think this conversation makes me feel? They don't! Think, that is.
I shuffle away with my head held high but my self esteem in my shoes. I don't say a word to let them know how much this hurts. I don't scream at the top of my lungs what I really feel. GO EAT ANOTHER GRAPEFRUIT AND FUCK OFF!!! No, I don't say a thing to them but I want to.
Is every friggin' neighborhood in America like this, or is it just the neighborhoods I choose to live in?
Don't get me wrong. I do not dislike everyone around me. I don't even necessarily dislike the people that have hurt my feelings, or said things about me they had no intention of my ever knowing they said.
There are actually quite a few really good women that I know here. People that either make me laugh, make me think, will lend a helping hand when needed, will take my kids into their homes for hours at a time to play.
Since some of my neighbors read my blog I won't use their names. If I like them, I'm sure they know it. At least, I hope they do.
When we moved from one house on the block to another 5 months ago, I finally got to know a couple of the neighbors down here a little better. People I knew and already liked but had the chance to get to know and like even more.
Bloggy friends? It has finally happened. I have met the one. The yin to my yang, the peanut butter to my chocolate. The woo to my hoo. Oh yes I have!
We haven't spent much time hanging at each other's houses. We haven't done lunch, or gone to a movie or any of those things. She's right across the street but our favored form of communication is FaceBook IM.
I can tell her anything and not worry that the whole neighborhood will know within minutes. She can count on me in the same way. If it's private, it's staying private, no question about it. I don't know all there is to know about her yet, just as she doesn't know everything about me. But we'll get there, I'm sure.
Her name is Ethel and she's beautiful inside and out. Ethel girl, thank you for being you!
Pssst! If you love me, you might love my sister more. Go visit her at Jill's Believe it or Not, and tell her I sent you!