With a little help from my friends
In high school, I managed to find a tight group of girls at the end of my freshman year. We lasted until about the end of our junior year, until drama (and an out-of-state-move) finally drove us apart. We called ourselves the foursome and we stuck together like our lives depended on it. I was probably the least social of the four of us, so it was really important to me until my junior year that we were such good friends. It’s interesting now, to think about how we sort of disintegrated. I know now that they really weren’t the greatest of friends, and they definitely weren’t empowering- and neither was I.
We all had other friends, and I while we were self-titled a group of four, I don’t think we were very exclusive- we simply didn’t have the popularity status to be (or have it matter, if we were). We treated each other pretty poorly- one of the girls, A, was “in love” with T, who strung her along while she dated boy after boy. I thought J was constantly stealing my boyfriends (it was only twice), and I made fun of T behind her back all the time. It was our own little soap opera. I thought about these girls as I read Sarah McIntosh’s “Lies We Have Told.” At the end of junior year, before J moved away, we all swore we were and would always be there for each other. After that summer was over, I hardly spoke to them. Like Sarah wrote, “Eventually, though, [we] just drifted apart” (121). I find, even now, that it’s difficult to make friends with girls. While I didn’t know it at the time, it was so discouraging being in such a volatile relationship with this group of girls.
I’m glad, now, that I had my mom during those years. She drove me home from school a good part of my time there, and I always chattered to her about the day and she gave me a chance to vent about my crazy friends and relax without having to worry that she was only pretending to understand. I’m so thankful to her and for the fact that I only relate to Jordyn Turney’s “Mascara” essay when she talks about her mom being the most beautiful woman: “It’s msostly because she’s someone who gets excited about watching chick flicks or black and white movies… The sort of mom who buys me chocolate when I’m on my period” (57). My mom, who didn’t have an ideal situation growing up- one that related more to the “TLC” and “Bloody Red Heart” essays- made sure that I had an empowering woman to talk to when my friends were ridiculous and my older sister moved out when I was ten years old.
All of these women had a hand in shaping my life, though, and my ideas of girlhood. T brought me out of my shell a little in the early years of high school, and A helped me to understand the different kinds of love girls can have for one another. The jealousy and anger I felt towards each of them at some point helped me to understand a little more about who I wanted to be. And my mom, even when she and my dad were separated, always made sure I knew I was loved.
We all had other friends, and I while we were self-titled a group of four, I don’t think we were very exclusive- we simply didn’t have the popularity status to be (or have it matter, if we were). We treated each other pretty poorly- one of the girls, A, was “in love” with T, who strung her along while she dated boy after boy. I thought J was constantly stealing my boyfriends (it was only twice), and I made fun of T behind her back all the time. It was our own little soap opera. I thought about these girls as I read Sarah McIntosh’s “Lies We Have Told.” At the end of junior year, before J moved away, we all swore we were and would always be there for each other. After that summer was over, I hardly spoke to them. Like Sarah wrote, “Eventually, though, [we] just drifted apart” (121). I find, even now, that it’s difficult to make friends with girls. While I didn’t know it at the time, it was so discouraging being in such a volatile relationship with this group of girls.
I’m glad, now, that I had my mom during those years. She drove me home from school a good part of my time there, and I always chattered to her about the day and she gave me a chance to vent about my crazy friends and relax without having to worry that she was only pretending to understand. I’m so thankful to her and for the fact that I only relate to Jordyn Turney’s “Mascara” essay when she talks about her mom being the most beautiful woman: “It’s msostly because she’s someone who gets excited about watching chick flicks or black and white movies… The sort of mom who buys me chocolate when I’m on my period” (57). My mom, who didn’t have an ideal situation growing up- one that related more to the “TLC” and “Bloody Red Heart” essays- made sure that I had an empowering woman to talk to when my friends were ridiculous and my older sister moved out when I was ten years old.
All of these women had a hand in shaping my life, though, and my ideas of girlhood. T brought me out of my shell a little in the early years of high school, and A helped me to understand the different kinds of love girls can have for one another. The jealousy and anger I felt towards each of them at some point helped me to understand a little more about who I wanted to be. And my mom, even when she and my dad were separated, always made sure I knew I was loved.
Comments
I think it's great how each group of girl friends has a name for their particular group. For my high school group it was "The Posse." Though it's sad to see friends grow apart - the 'posse' are still good friends though the end of college and the general movement of life is straining those bonds - I think it's important to have them when you do. In a way those girls help me keep my sanity. It's nice to have someone outside of your family that knows you so well and that you can be comfortable with. We all need that.