It began in 2024, with a highly anticipated visit with friends. Upon arriving at the house, one of our hosts, in a super festive mood, eagerly showed me a new purchase, and actually said these words, “I hope this makes you jealous.” My body froze in shock (why would anyone say this?!), and I quickly changed the subject. Later, in the warm intimacy of a moving vehicle, the two of us chatting convivially, more horrible words were uttered.
Before I say what they were, I have two thoughts/truths to convey. The first is a defense mechanism recently “invented” by my own person, but it may be actual gospel elsewhere, and I had yet to encounter it. Anyway, it goes like this: whenever I feel hurt by another, I mentally remove myself, repeat what was said aloud, and hear it as a stranger would, like eavesdropping. How do I react now?
The second relates to my marriage with Greg. Since we chose not to have kids, our relationship is our beloved child. It is nearly 35 years old and looked upon reverentially. It is sometimes petulant, oftentimes silly, other times awkward, and mostly quite loving, affectionate, and thoughtful. Without the distraction of child rearing, we have put our all into its cultivation. We have had lengthy discussions on what is best for it and us. It is well oiled, well loved, well considered. No detail has been left to chance, really. It works.
So, driving along, me feeling warm and fuzzy, with what I thought was the best company, I was verbally assaulted. My friend, in what I can only assume was, as I am not a mind reader, a fervent zeal to demonstrate her moral superiority over a different, lesser woman of close relation, forgot who she was with (unemployed me), and uttered a fierce pride in never “using” her partner, for “his” insurance. “At least I never did THAT.”
For context, when I was very young and imagined my life, it was not with a man, but as an independent woman, with a great job, in a fabulously cozy and well decorated home. What a crazy surprise to find a perfect partner so young (19!), and the homes I imagined soon thereafter. A greater surprise, more so anguish, was at not being gainfully employed, or even, to be honest, employable, for the better part of the last two decades.
After much soul searching, Greg and I made peace with it. Him more than me, truth be told, but with a great partnership, comes great understanding. It is now our shared pain, and when I am down about it, our shitty burden. OURS. No one else has dominion over it. We have mutually worked our way in, up, down, and around it.
That being said, this has not prevented me from having deep shame on the subject. No surprise, guess how horribly I was stricken upon hearing her words?! For nearly a year (!!), I lingered silently over them, sometimes defeated, others positively riled. Was I really a user? Did Greg feel the same? One day, he made mention of his tiring of our friend’s frequent caustic remarks on all manner of subjects, as she rarely had an unexpressed thought, however rude or unkind.
I saw my opening, screwed up my courage, and came to my eavesdropping exercise. We were now collectively sad and angry. Who on earth declares such things to a supposedly dear friend? So, we ruminated, for days and days and days, and wrote the kindest letter we could, leaving the friendship.
It was, wildly, not the last. After a horrifyingly painful few days in the company of another “friend,” aided by the eavesdropping tool, we felt yet more disbelief at how easy it seemed for people we dearly loved, for decades, to treat us so badly. And not for the first time.
We came to realize many things. First, these friendships were forged as young adults, when our values and beliefs were less solid, and unkindness wasn’t the deal breaker it is today. Second, when we lived in Portland (more than ten years ago!), and only encountered them every few years, their insensitive idiosyncrasies were less visible, and we didn’t truly know who they were. If we met them now, they would remain strangers. Finally, we noted, in small part, the fault was ours, for not setting better boundaries. “I don’t like that. Please stop.” You can bet your sweet bottom that future friends will know better where we stand.
