Friendship for me has always been defined somewhat by commercials and television programs. I watch Sex in the City and see these four women meeting every week, getting together, sharing their lives with one another. Or the show Friends in which a group of friends in their 30's seems to have the camaraderie of college students. And it seems that I am seriously lacking in friendship if that's the true definition. Throughout my entire school career, I never had any peer group to speak of. Sure, I had classes with the same groups of people. I knew their names; they knew my name, but they weren't really my "friends." They didn't ask me to join them in their high school games -- sort of like reindeer games but involving alcohol and sex I think. My junior year in high school, I went to a summer camp at Western and felt like I belonged to a group of people for the first time, but that was a brief - fleeting sensation that didn't last past the first month or two of school my senior year. And once I got to college, I bonded with my roommate and hall mates of my dorm. But again, nothing lasted past the time spent in close contact.
When I was in middle school, and bemoaning the fact that I didn't fit in and no one really liked me, my mother told me that I was going to be the type of person who didn't have a lot of friends, but I would find a few really good friends in my life and I would keep them forever. As a result, since the age of 12, I have been searching for those fee people. And, at the age of 36, I'm not sure that I've found those people. But to be fair, I think that my definition may be wrong.
The issues was solidified for me when on my 13th birthday party – held at Lake Barkley State Resort Park beach – in which I invited the kids I had spent every school year for the past 5 years – the only person who came was the girl who spent the night for me. Nothing says, you’re not special or liked like a party that no one attends. It was a life shaping moment.
When I was 18, I met a boy named Craig who was going to be a senior in high school. And for some odd, twist of fate reason, I got caught up in his group of friends. But, not really -- again lack of proximity makes that connection impossible to keep -- and of course they were in high school and I was a sophomore in college. But it did give me the chance to see what high schoolers did on the weekend nights.
As I grew older and began to make friends, I suffered no small amount of anxiety about letting my friends meet each other. My greatest fear was that they would like each other so much and I would be come a third wheel (thanks to Terri and Craig for making that a reality – truly no bitterness – I swear). And this plagues me to this day – to the point that any life event that demands celebration gets celebrated 3 times – once for my family and close friends, once for my work and good friends, and once for my husband’s family. I can’t handle the pressure of mixing groups.
So here I am, at 36, taking stock of my life (largely due to the fact that I’m temporarily in doogie howser blog mode) and trying to see who I count as my friends. Unfortunately, most of my friends are like me – in that we are a relatively reclusive lot – we don’t want or need to see each other every day – we don’t call each other often. We are more like the forwarded email type of friends. And it’s not until we meet up and sit to visit that I really appreciate them and realize how much I miss them. After a visit session, I often wish that we lived close enough together to visit every day. But then I know that we would never visit every day – the routines of our lives have gone too far separate to allow such togetherness. But, the connection is always there.
My only conclusion is that my definition must be wrong – that I should not try to recapture the togetherness of the sex in the city girls or friends – because I’m not like any of those people anyway. I am self-aware, self-confident, and content. I have no need to vent, complain, or to share the sordid details of my sex life with anyone – nor do I really want to hear on a daily basis the trauma of someone else’s life. My friendships aren’t really friendships, they are in essence extended family… our visits beginning with catching up, telling stories, spattered with reminiscing and always, but always, sparkling with laughter. I think that if I spent too much time with them, I wouldn’t appreciate them as much. And on the rare occasion when we get together, we are the sex and the city girls or the friends gang – we just aren’t those people every day – mostly because I think we have real lives – jobs, bills, the daily drudge that doesn’t play well on sit-coms.
And a final note – because I feel I must. A final reason that I feel that my need to extraneous relationships is so small is that I have been blessed with a husband, children and family who really fulfill these needs for me. Elijah is my playmate and we force Jose to do FFO’s with us. Jose is there for me to discuss life issues, goals, plans, dreams, plumbing, etc. And for the rest, I have my neighbor, Patti, and the people that I work with every day. It will have to do. And, god willing, I’ll never have an event that requires me to call upon my friends – the fateful test of who really gives a damn or not. I’m really just hoping more people show up to my funeral than showed up to my 13th birthday party – and I’ll be happy.
