I have done my fair share of that, and then a little extra.
Losing myself so deeply in various relationships I could barely remember my own name.
Putting my rings and incense and certain dresses aside because He didn’t like them. Biting my tongue till it bled and I eventually left.
Lying about where those bruises came from until the girls who loved me had no choice but to look away.
Disappearing into a man and creating a new identity that suited him. Like a witness protection program for my soul. Except my soul didn’t need to be hidden away, it need to be set free.
But that was in the time called ‘before’.
Also in the time called ‘before’ I made the grand mistake of using one poor girlfriend as nothing but a negative bitching crying sobbing hiding place from ex hubby. To the point wherein when I went back to him for the millionth time she finally threw her hands up and said “I don’t get it and I can’t do this anymore.”
Haven’t seen her since.
I truly do not blame her.
I saw good things in him, she was privy to exactly none of them.
In fact, she didn’t even know what he looked like. He came to pick me up one time from her house. She saw us outside and couldn’t figure out for the life of her why I was hugging a homeless man. He was a little rough around the edges, probably still is.
I was recently reminded that a huge part of the courage I summoned to leave the farm was due to the weird family of friends I made working at the gas station down the road. I couldn’t have done it without them. Still love them to this day even if I don’t get to see them.
The relationship with the guy before him was an equal friendless zone. I had been stripping for the 4 years prior and 99% of my friends were dancers. When I made the decision to be with him and quit dancing I quit my friendships too. Not my best idea in retrospect. He kept me busy with laundry and cooking and cleaning and I was okay being a house mouse until I wasn’t. Then I was catapulted back into the world with nowhere to stay and only one friend. I made it out just to fuck her over on behalf of the next. Where I disappeared again.
In the time called after I have had to say ‘no’ to a wonderful man who has been a rock in the hard place I found myself in. He lives far away, has children and there is no hope of him relocating here.
I have never been overly attached to any geographical location.
So why here?
So why now?
My girls. My girls are my home and this is where they are so this is where I will stay.
I have never had friendships like the ones I have with these girls now. And I wouldn’t trade them for anything.
I also have a handful of wonderful witchy woman friends that have found me adrift on the ocean of the internet and we’ve tethered our boats together to weather varying storms. I see them when I can and my door is always open. Sadly they are farther than Narnia, but I will always love them.
In the time called after I have realized the fundamental differences between men and women.
I have a newfound respect for men and their wants and needs and can’ts.
Men like to feel useful. Men like to find solutions, not talk about feelings. That’s what our girlfriends are for. Solid female friendships build a solid foundation for our very existence, so when a man comes into our lives we aren’t leaning on him for support. Or at least that’s how I am and how I want to be.
It eliminates the need and leaves the want.
As in, I want to be with him.
I need my girls.
Makes him a choice, not a necessity. This is bliss.
It also sets the bar a lot higher for how I know I deserve to be treated. My PIC does NOT mince words. If I fuck up or throw an unwarranted tantrum she tells me, in a way that calms me down. If I get sad or confused I have ears and shoulders that listen and let me lean.
If one of us gets hurt we all rally around her. Something needs doing, we do it.
I also always have the choice to be alone, or if alone is not what I want, I can be with one or all of them.
For the right men? It takes a lot of pressure off of the relationship. They know we are going to be alright regardless freeing up time for manly endeavors and behavior instead of holding our purses at Bed Bath and Beyond. They get the luxury of us having worked most of our troubles out with the girls so they get the condensed version of what’s up.
Panda and I both met new ones and I’ve already thrown mine into the deep end.
These are my friends and this is how we are.
He not only survived but swam around beautifully.