When I was a child, the other girls in my neighborhood were firmly cemented into best friend pairs – Amy & Julie, Laurie & Darlene, Sherry & Meg, etc.
My role was to be a back-up friend. Sometimes, I was included in group activities. Sometimes, I was called upon if the BFF was unavailable. And for a brief period of time in first and again in fifth grade, I had my own best friend for awhile.
I grew used to plopping myself into situations – lunch tables, playground games, field trip partners. It felt familiar to be tolerated and allowed to belong depending on the whim of the crowd. Or not.
Mostly, I was just used to being alone. I knew it was inevitable someone would need me to make up a game of 4-Square or to take a bike ride. That had to be enough.
One distinct memory from about 5th grade – middle of winter and I wanted to sled ride. I walked to a really long downhill trek we called ‘The Pipeline’ because it was a clearing alongside a huge natural gas line. The other kids were wrapping up their runs, but promised to wait for me. So I hurled myself down that awesome snowy cold hill. And, of course, they had left. I wasn’t surprised, much less disappointed as I began a long, cold walk uphill towing my wood and metal sled. I wondered what would happen if I just sat down – would anyone think to look for me there? But I kept trudging along for what seemed like hours. Then I walked back through the woods to our neighborhood and up the final hill. I felt a defiant sense of accomplishment because I knew even then that people like me aren’t intended for triumph.
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I’ve revisited this theme several times of latebecause that hollow loneliness is so intense again. It is uphill, it is cold, and it is built on a foundation of people’s long-time behaviors.
Maybe in five years, I’ll read this and know things got better. Maybe not. Right now, I just feel so tired – tired of people analyzing me, ignoring me, and expecting me to be someone different than my true self.
I can’t remember what it feels like to not be trudging up that hill for more of the same.
Story of my life, Sue. Once in a while, I would make a really good friendship, but something would always happen. The last friend I made, I learned, was making derogatory statements about me and told me over and over that she didn’t want me to go to open Lesbian events, because she “just didn’t want me there.” I tried to find out why she felt that way…maybe I could change something…but she wouldn’t tell me. I was very upset for a long time. I later figured out that she saw her friendship with me as an unequal one and somehow looked down on me, I think. She never really came clean, and did not apologize for alienating me from others. I stopped seeing her and never reconciled with her. She just died, and I feel sad that I was never able to make it right.