This has been rattling around in my brain for quite awhile and it's spring, so here goes...
I have always had a tenuous time with female friendships ever since I can remember. I've always gotten along better with males from the time I was a little tomboy, through being a "little sister" at a fraternity... I've always been more comfortable being a 'guy's girl'. Maybe its because I have never been the jealous, catty, bitchy, backstabbing type. I was never a fan of the game playing, drama and "mean girl" stuff, that I see women perpetuating even into adulthood. If guys have issues with another guy, they beat the crap out of each other, shake hands & it's done. Girls on the other hand, will engage in grudge-holding and intricate forms of psychological torture with each other. Is it our hormones? Our DNA? Our nature, that pre-disposes most of us to behave like total c-words to each other?... I have NEVER understood why!
"We have witnessed deadly aggression between female wolves since the seventies. Why do females tend to be less tolerant of each other as they mature? Our observations at the Park and in discussions with other facilities point to females being much more intolerant of each other than males are of other males. The intensity of aggression also tends to be much greater between females. I suspect that female pack members may be under selection pressure to behave in this manner. Females may also have naturally selected "incentive" to disperse of which they are not conscious. Monty Sloan summed up his observations with a little poem: "Males are wonderful, males are nice, males are made of sugar and spice. Females are awful. Females are mean. Females will bite you, and rip out your spleen.". " - From: WOLF PARK NEWS, The Quarterly Newsletter of The North American Wildlife Park Foundation. Vol. 27 No. 1 - Winter 2000
I have been horribly betrayed by female friends throughout my life (including 2 Lisas, 2 Leslies, a Joan, a Jennifer and a Lara), which makes me extremely leery and distrustful. Not to mention the fact that I have had some truly evil and despicable female bosses, which made me vow NEVER, EVER to work for a woman again. For some women, I guess being stuck in junior high mode never truly ends, because I see it every day in workplace, social & community environments... The need to see and be seen, to judge and criticize, to undermine other women, to constantly brag about how wonderful their lives are in a game of never-ending one-upmanship, to constantly mention how wonderfully smart and advanced their children are, or how committed they are to the cause du jour (as if it were a competitive sport), or how awesome it is that they have a husband who makes enough for them to be a stay-at-home-Mom, so they can Tweet and blog about it all day long, til the kids come home from school, or remind everyone how lucky they are to have SO much love and happiness that their "cups runneth over" (which honestly makes me want to smash their damn cups into a million pieces and utter, "Who gives a shit?!").
I personally have never felt the need for such outward validation... Maybe because despite all of the BS I've been through in my life (and there has been a LOT), I have a very healthy sense of self-esteem. I have always taken the road less traveled, which has taken me to some pretty spectacular, and sometimes dark places. I have never taken myself too seriously, and have always maintained a sense of humor about life (which can be totally absurd sometimes). It took me until my 40s to realize that I am my OWN woman, on MY terms and I don't need to compare myself to others to justify anything. I have no use for the smug, self-righteousness that some of these deeply insecure women wrap themselves in like a designer coat. I don't need to be the prettiest, the skinniest, the best-dressed, the smartest or the busiest! I am who I am. I have been to hell and back, and have risen from the ashes again and again, like the fabled Phoenix. I am strong, smart, funny, caring, creative, loyal and I would bend over backwards for any of my close friends in a heartbeat. But, I am also someone who you don't want to cross swords with. I tend to have a "one strike and you're out" policy, which is admittedly one of my big, personal flaws. I have a very low tolerance for BS, lies and manipulative behavior. I am quick to anger and slow to forgive. I love deeply and get hurt easily. I can be your best friend, or walk away without a backwards glance.
I consider myself very fortunate to know some truly amazing women, and call them friends (you know who you are, ladies). Recently, I was informed that one of my old bffs from high school REALLY wanted to "reconnect" through a mutual friend and the magic of Facebook. This is someone who betrayed me so badly, and hurt me so deeply (which I later realized was because of her own deep-rooted jealousy and insecurities) that I am wary of female friendships to this day. I realized that I was suddenly in a position of strength, with the wisdom and insight of many years under the bridge to reflect, and ponder this choice. I could rekindle the friendship on a more adult level, catch up on 20-something years of being out of touch and perhaps be the bigger person... But, really, what was the point?! I didn't need this toxic person's friendship and I certainly didn't have much in common with her at this point in our lives. My response was this... "I'd rather pry my kneecaps off with a screwdriver, so no thanks!" Then I ate some chocolate, helped my daughter make a poster for school and watched a movie with my husband, who is also my best friend... The end.
Saturday, May 11, 2013
Sunday, April 14, 2013
The Childhood My Child Will Never Have
I don't have many regrets in my life, but one that I do have is the fact that I will never be able to replicate for my daughter the kind of childhood I had, and it makes me sad. It was a different, simpler time when I was growing up, and I occasionally wax nostalgic for it...
I grew up in a very middle-class neighborhood made up of rows of townhouses and duplexes. Right behind my row was a park and there was also a basketball court and tennis courts, not far from the park. There were a lot of families with kids, so there was never any lack of playmates. It was the kind of place where neighbors were like family, they borrowed tools, watched each other's kids and helped fix a flat tire or charge a dead car battery. I often spent more time at the neighbor's houses than my own, and that was okay. There were a few jerks in the neighborhood, but mostly everyone was nice.
As a kid, I walked or biked the half mile to grade school and was lucky enough to have a stay-at-home Mom, who would fix lunch for me and was there when I got home from school every day. Back then, a family could live pretty comfortably on one income and most of the families in my neighborhood did. My Dad even had a company car! We weren't rich, but I never felt I was lacking for anything.
Summers were the best though... The days seem to last forever... I could play with friends in our small, fenced-in backyards, ride around the neighborhood in my Schwinn bike, run around in the sprinkler on our tiny front lawn, hop on the free bus and spend the day at the local pool, or even hang out at the park, which was staffed with high school and college age park district counselors, who led a very loose version of "camp" for us local kids. And the ice cream man would always conveniently show up on my street right after dinner time, with his music sending us running for our allowance or Dad's wallet. There would also be movie nights out near the tennis courts, complete with a screen and a projector, so neighborhood residents would shlep out their lawn chairs, blankets, popcorn, drinks and bug spray, while being treated to classics like "Born Free" and "Mary Poppins".
The rule was that you could basically spend the ENTIRE day outside, come in when your Mom called you for dinner, then go back out to play until it got dark. This was back in the days before video games, cable TV, home computers, cell phones and "Amber Alerts". And if something did happen and you were going to be late getting home, you picked up a rotary dial phone and called home. I have NO idea how our parent's kept track of us, or if they worried about where we were, or whether we were going to be abducted or mangled on the metal playground equipment, but somehow we all survived!
Fast forward about 30-something years... The world has changed and people just don't do things like let their kids walk to school, or stay out all day unattended. Those that do, can easily stay in contact with their kids via up-to-the-minute texts on their super-speedy, internet connected cell phones. As for me, I live in a condo building, so there's no backyard or nearby park for my daughter to play in. No neighborhood kids to pal around with or who's houses she can hang out at. And most "playdates" need to be coordinated months in advance. Her school is across town, so she gets driven or rides the bus.
The only thing I can really give her are stories about how it used to be back in the "old-days" of the 70's and 80's and hope that maybe someday she'll aspire to giving her own kids an idyllic childhood they'll remember.
I grew up in a very middle-class neighborhood made up of rows of townhouses and duplexes. Right behind my row was a park and there was also a basketball court and tennis courts, not far from the park. There were a lot of families with kids, so there was never any lack of playmates. It was the kind of place where neighbors were like family, they borrowed tools, watched each other's kids and helped fix a flat tire or charge a dead car battery. I often spent more time at the neighbor's houses than my own, and that was okay. There were a few jerks in the neighborhood, but mostly everyone was nice.
As a kid, I walked or biked the half mile to grade school and was lucky enough to have a stay-at-home Mom, who would fix lunch for me and was there when I got home from school every day. Back then, a family could live pretty comfortably on one income and most of the families in my neighborhood did. My Dad even had a company car! We weren't rich, but I never felt I was lacking for anything.
Summers were the best though... The days seem to last forever... I could play with friends in our small, fenced-in backyards, ride around the neighborhood in my Schwinn bike, run around in the sprinkler on our tiny front lawn, hop on the free bus and spend the day at the local pool, or even hang out at the park, which was staffed with high school and college age park district counselors, who led a very loose version of "camp" for us local kids. And the ice cream man would always conveniently show up on my street right after dinner time, with his music sending us running for our allowance or Dad's wallet. There would also be movie nights out near the tennis courts, complete with a screen and a projector, so neighborhood residents would shlep out their lawn chairs, blankets, popcorn, drinks and bug spray, while being treated to classics like "Born Free" and "Mary Poppins".
The rule was that you could basically spend the ENTIRE day outside, come in when your Mom called you for dinner, then go back out to play until it got dark. This was back in the days before video games, cable TV, home computers, cell phones and "Amber Alerts". And if something did happen and you were going to be late getting home, you picked up a rotary dial phone and called home. I have NO idea how our parent's kept track of us, or if they worried about where we were, or whether we were going to be abducted or mangled on the metal playground equipment, but somehow we all survived!
Fast forward about 30-something years... The world has changed and people just don't do things like let their kids walk to school, or stay out all day unattended. Those that do, can easily stay in contact with their kids via up-to-the-minute texts on their super-speedy, internet connected cell phones. As for me, I live in a condo building, so there's no backyard or nearby park for my daughter to play in. No neighborhood kids to pal around with or who's houses she can hang out at. And most "playdates" need to be coordinated months in advance. Her school is across town, so she gets driven or rides the bus.
The only thing I can really give her are stories about how it used to be back in the "old-days" of the 70's and 80's and hope that maybe someday she'll aspire to giving her own kids an idyllic childhood they'll remember.
Saturday, April 6, 2013
Being Okay With Just Being Okay
Yesterday I did not do anything extrordinary. I didn't get a paper or a book published. I didn't get a fabulous new job. I didn't blog or Tweet about changing the world. I didn't go to the gym or lose any weight. I didn't take a trip to a fabulous location. Yesterday I did not do anything extrordinary.
Here's what I did do... At 7 AM I got up, got my daughter fed, dressed and ready, then took her to school (no easy feat with a crabby kindergartener). I did a few hours of work from home via phone and laptop. I paid some bills. I picked up my daughter from school and we went over to my parent's house. I made lunch, did a load of laundry and we hung out with Grandma and Grandpa for a few hours. I coordinated getting a beautiful and most necessary dresser from a very generous friend, who's kids had outgrown it. I stopped by a local Salvation Army store to donate 2 bags of clothes, before heading over to another friend's house for a late afternoon playdate we'd arranged earlier in the week for our kids. I hadn't really planned anything for dinner, so I sent a quick text to the hubby, who picked up some pizza for us. After dinner, checking e-mails and Facebook, and a few episodes of "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles", it was suddenly 8 PM, which meant bed time for my daughter. Shortly after that, my friend's husband arrived with the dresser and he and my husband got it into our house. By 9 PM I was tired, but managed to find the energy to watch a TV show I had DVRd a few days earlier. Finally, at 10 PM I went to bed, exhausted from my 15 hour long day.
Yesterday, I did not do anything extrordinary. I did the business of getting through the day. I did it with hands swollen and aching from rheumatoid arthritis and a nagging, low-level of inner anxiety and melancholy humming in my brain. I didn't do anything extrordinary, but I actually accomplished quite a lot. It's easy to forget that the seemingly mundane taks woven into the fabric of my day are what keep me and my family going. Nobody ever gets a medal or congratulations for doing what needs to be done or just making it through the day. It's easy to look around at other people and think that their lives are so much better than yours. It's easy to judge yourself by some impossible standard of "not being good enough". The truth is that we are ALL just trying to make it in this life and the expectation of having to be exceptional and perfect are simply false illusions that noone can ever live up to. Everyone has hardships to deal with in their life... Some more than others. Yesterday I did not do anything extordinary, but I was pretty damn okay. Sometimes, we have to be okay with just being okay... And that's okay!
Here's what I did do... At 7 AM I got up, got my daughter fed, dressed and ready, then took her to school (no easy feat with a crabby kindergartener). I did a few hours of work from home via phone and laptop. I paid some bills. I picked up my daughter from school and we went over to my parent's house. I made lunch, did a load of laundry and we hung out with Grandma and Grandpa for a few hours. I coordinated getting a beautiful and most necessary dresser from a very generous friend, who's kids had outgrown it. I stopped by a local Salvation Army store to donate 2 bags of clothes, before heading over to another friend's house for a late afternoon playdate we'd arranged earlier in the week for our kids. I hadn't really planned anything for dinner, so I sent a quick text to the hubby, who picked up some pizza for us. After dinner, checking e-mails and Facebook, and a few episodes of "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles", it was suddenly 8 PM, which meant bed time for my daughter. Shortly after that, my friend's husband arrived with the dresser and he and my husband got it into our house. By 9 PM I was tired, but managed to find the energy to watch a TV show I had DVRd a few days earlier. Finally, at 10 PM I went to bed, exhausted from my 15 hour long day.
Yesterday, I did not do anything extrordinary. I did the business of getting through the day. I did it with hands swollen and aching from rheumatoid arthritis and a nagging, low-level of inner anxiety and melancholy humming in my brain. I didn't do anything extrordinary, but I actually accomplished quite a lot. It's easy to forget that the seemingly mundane taks woven into the fabric of my day are what keep me and my family going. Nobody ever gets a medal or congratulations for doing what needs to be done or just making it through the day. It's easy to look around at other people and think that their lives are so much better than yours. It's easy to judge yourself by some impossible standard of "not being good enough". The truth is that we are ALL just trying to make it in this life and the expectation of having to be exceptional and perfect are simply false illusions that noone can ever live up to. Everyone has hardships to deal with in their life... Some more than others. Yesterday I did not do anything extordinary, but I was pretty damn okay. Sometimes, we have to be okay with just being okay... And that's okay!
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