another feminine failure
For a long while, I was not friends with many girls. I was the one that hid behind the “I am just better friends with guys,” phrase. My primary reason for this was probably a combination of intimidation and jealousy of other girls. Obviously, I mistakenly thought, that no boy would ever see me if I hung out with other girls, especially really pretty ones.
So for years, I shirked friendships with girls thinking they were some threat to my potential, and hopefully flourishing romantic life (which in the end is all about my insecurity and nothing about the boys or the girls or anyone else, sigh).
And then I realized: it doesn’t matter. In a cosmic sense, he was made to be with me, not some other her. His personality and character reflect my personality and character. He respects me. I respect him. He thinks I am grand. And, well, I reciprocate. He sees me in the room, while all the other faces and places blur. And I am taken, to have and to hold, as one girl amidst a sea of them.
—
Not until years later, when life hits at the place where you actually need people- because life is hard and rent is due and your health insurance isn’t covering all of your problems, and food is expensive, and a real relationship is difficult work, and my car is broken again, and my boss is a wack job, and I’m trying and I’m trying and I’m still feeling lonely and tired and so tired, and because life is hard- did I see that I was a selfish selfish fool. And that I had been missing so much for so long.
Over the past few years, in this hard, nay realistic, place of life, I see my relationships with other females as exactly as they should be: utterly unparalleled and vitally necessary. They are my lifeblood and my encouragement. They are my understanding and my nearness. These women fight for my upcoming marriage, and fight for my heart and peace. They pour my wine, and listen to me cry. They carry the burden of life upon their backs with grace and beauty.
Women have the distinct ability to carry life within their bones- all of it held together and warmed and fostered. There is a wholeness to women that brings the tragedy and comfort of life together in a glorious unity- a gentleness and a mountain-movin’ strength.
And I am glad I didn’t hide forever in my fears and insecurities. I am a better person- fiance, sister, daughter, friend- because of it. Because I am not alone in this womanhood journey, and my dear friends, they are a little less alone too.
