she's not who you think she is. she's changed. she has become something entirely different.
Words falling through the phone into my jumbled state of consciousness. The voice belonged to my eternal optimist friend, a girl who had seen enough things first hand that she should have been hardened. And there she was concerned about my heart that she felt that I was putting too much on the line.
she has become barely unrecognizable. i think she is lost to us. i don't think that she is salvageable anymore. you must give up on her.
The words have echoed through me. Not because of their harshness, because they were like a feather pillow wrapped baseball bat, but because of their point of origin. The way my friend positioned her tongue to lightly break my heart. The way her words conveyed her sense of loss, her disappointment, as well as her first hand experience of the mayhem that has ensued.
A dear mutual friend of ours has chosen a lifestyle that is so destructive, so painful, so illogical that it has sent us reeling. I think the warning signs were there over a year ago. But I rationalized it as "not my business" and "has nothing to do with me", and "jees, you are nosy"...
I never anticipated it would resonate so deeply through us because I never imagined that what has happened in their household would be possible. She has allowed things to continue and chooses to allow them to happen, due to whatever reason, I can only assume co-dependence, financial reasons, shame, guilt, and even optimism. Hope that it will get better.
I never imagined that this person that I admire so much as a parent could allow these travesties to continue to happen IN FRONT of her numerous young children. I have failed to realize that this person by doing so has chosen the abuse and the abuser over her children. What you tolerate, you encourage. In America there are numerous help groups for women. There is no reason to stay with your tormentor...
Wednesday, January 29, 2014
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
The Beautiful People
It always surprises me how I think I know how a situation is going to play out, and I am completely wrong. I am then always stunned because my belief of how a situation will be is based off of a falsified fact about myself. For example, I really believed that I love jewelry. And then this weekend, one innocent party at my lovely neighbours house totally blew that theory out of the water...
My neighbor, beautiful, together, grounded, wonderful, sweet, kind, caring and just totally lovely, invited me to her jewelry party. I made it there by the hair of my chinny chin chin. I walked in to a room full of what I call The Beautiful People. Of course this is a homage to Marilyn Manson, but more than that The Beautiful People have no idea what type of effect they have on us non-beautiful people.
The ladies sat in a u shape, clutching their clipboards full of glossy jewelry catalogues, with their shiny sparkly heads nodding in deep satisfaction. The hostess gleefully explained that the jewelry business was not just a vocation but it was a true calling to being in the Lord's service and enriching peoples lives through the personal contact and commitment to high standards. My neighbor asked me if I would like to sit down. I was skulking in the back ground which is where, I realized, I felt the most comfortable. I wasn't sure what I had signed up for. More than that, I was confused by the reality of the jewelry party versus what I imagined the jewelry party would be. I imagined the jewelry party would be a lot less rigid... And more about a party, than the jewelry, and that is where I was wrong, I was very, very wrong.
The hostess of the party modeled a couple of the "pieces" and passed them around. There was nothing "wrong" with the pieces... Just I don't wear accessories. So I wouldn't make the time to put on "beautiful matching turquoise beads" with a "beautiful matching turquoise necklace".... Then a lot of the pieces had metal clasps or bands, or links, so that also definitely disqualified them, as I have a severe metal allergy. In fact I have an almost everything allergy. Make up. Yep allergic to that. Doesn't matter if its Clinique or Dior, makes my eyes red or they swell up and are itchy. Contact lenses, yep allergic to that. Most creams and lotions. Yep. Shampoos. Yep. Detergent. Yep. I have contact dermatitis... Hair dye. Yep. Just had my hair done. Now my forehead and scalp are peeling. Have my eyebrows waxed and my face swells up like bozo the clown.
This one extremely beautiful Beautiful People turned to me, blonde hair, long eyelashes like a doe, just kind creature, soft, took the jewelry so seriously, and asked me what I liked. I started to tell her well, I really cant wear anything, because I have allergies to the metal. Suddenly the whole room went silent. The ladies moved over from the queso and chips, suddenly I was the center of attention, I had an entire room of Beautiful People umming and ahhhing and nodding in their deepest sympathy of my inability to wear the jewelry... I had their sympathy even that I couldn't find the right moisturizer or that, look, I am not even wearing make up! Suddenly my dour appearance made sense to them... I was forgiven for being so unaccessorized in a room full of dewy gem riddled blossoms of femininity.
The air grew thick with all of the estrogen, my heart rose into my throat and I escaped to the garden to hang with the boys. My neighbours husband was building his kids a fort, and we spoke about the durability of this Brazilian wood and the man made wood that people use on their docks or around the pool. The boys were doing double flips on the trampoline, my girls joined in, kids screaming, the frigid air, and my anxiety waned.
Out there, under the majestic pine trees, at the bottom of their garden, littered with their screaming sons, Tonka toys, trucks, wood, fort, climbing walls and my two little girls, it dawned on me that I was not a "normal" woman... and it also dawned on me that whilst I am very much appreciative of how beautiful the Beautiful People are, that I am also okay being the one who stands alone without adornment.
My neighbor, beautiful, together, grounded, wonderful, sweet, kind, caring and just totally lovely, invited me to her jewelry party. I made it there by the hair of my chinny chin chin. I walked in to a room full of what I call The Beautiful People. Of course this is a homage to Marilyn Manson, but more than that The Beautiful People have no idea what type of effect they have on us non-beautiful people.
The ladies sat in a u shape, clutching their clipboards full of glossy jewelry catalogues, with their shiny sparkly heads nodding in deep satisfaction. The hostess gleefully explained that the jewelry business was not just a vocation but it was a true calling to being in the Lord's service and enriching peoples lives through the personal contact and commitment to high standards. My neighbor asked me if I would like to sit down. I was skulking in the back ground which is where, I realized, I felt the most comfortable. I wasn't sure what I had signed up for. More than that, I was confused by the reality of the jewelry party versus what I imagined the jewelry party would be. I imagined the jewelry party would be a lot less rigid... And more about a party, than the jewelry, and that is where I was wrong, I was very, very wrong.
The hostess of the party modeled a couple of the "pieces" and passed them around. There was nothing "wrong" with the pieces... Just I don't wear accessories. So I wouldn't make the time to put on "beautiful matching turquoise beads" with a "beautiful matching turquoise necklace".... Then a lot of the pieces had metal clasps or bands, or links, so that also definitely disqualified them, as I have a severe metal allergy. In fact I have an almost everything allergy. Make up. Yep allergic to that. Doesn't matter if its Clinique or Dior, makes my eyes red or they swell up and are itchy. Contact lenses, yep allergic to that. Most creams and lotions. Yep. Shampoos. Yep. Detergent. Yep. I have contact dermatitis... Hair dye. Yep. Just had my hair done. Now my forehead and scalp are peeling. Have my eyebrows waxed and my face swells up like bozo the clown.
This one extremely beautiful Beautiful People turned to me, blonde hair, long eyelashes like a doe, just kind creature, soft, took the jewelry so seriously, and asked me what I liked. I started to tell her well, I really cant wear anything, because I have allergies to the metal. Suddenly the whole room went silent. The ladies moved over from the queso and chips, suddenly I was the center of attention, I had an entire room of Beautiful People umming and ahhhing and nodding in their deepest sympathy of my inability to wear the jewelry... I had their sympathy even that I couldn't find the right moisturizer or that, look, I am not even wearing make up! Suddenly my dour appearance made sense to them... I was forgiven for being so unaccessorized in a room full of dewy gem riddled blossoms of femininity.
The air grew thick with all of the estrogen, my heart rose into my throat and I escaped to the garden to hang with the boys. My neighbours husband was building his kids a fort, and we spoke about the durability of this Brazilian wood and the man made wood that people use on their docks or around the pool. The boys were doing double flips on the trampoline, my girls joined in, kids screaming, the frigid air, and my anxiety waned.
Out there, under the majestic pine trees, at the bottom of their garden, littered with their screaming sons, Tonka toys, trucks, wood, fort, climbing walls and my two little girls, it dawned on me that I was not a "normal" woman... and it also dawned on me that whilst I am very much appreciative of how beautiful the Beautiful People are, that I am also okay being the one who stands alone without adornment.
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