Girls and Tribes and Quarters

I have a confession: Girls scare me. 

When they travel in tribes, I can actually feel my breath back up in my chest and bad words want to slip out before I run frantically in the other direction. 

I'm a girl coward.

I'd like to say I don't know where this started but I totally know.
Two words: High School. 

Two things happened in quick succession this week that reminded me of my girl fear. One, I shared a post on Facebook that had beautiful women emailing and messaging me their stories that were a lot like mine. So, my perception got knocked around a little bit, which is a really good thing for me.

The second thing that happened was we had a CL100 done on our house because we're moving. A CL100 is a fancy way to say termite letter. Since I'm a real estate broker in real life, I know those guys pretty well, which means we talk about stuff besides bugs and vapor barriers and moisture levels. For some reason, Keith, my termite guy, said something about wanting to be 17 again and I laughed and laughed. Until I realized he didn't get the joke. 

I mean, would ANYONE do high school again?! Evidently, the answer is yes for some people. I even asked my Facebook buddies and some of them said YES! I am not one of those people. 

For me, high school felt a little like an LSD trip must feel. (I've never done LSD, so I'm guessing here.) 

I floated through high school marveling at all the colorful, shiny people and how they seemed to be doing life SO much better than I was doing it. Some of them were even having fun. I could totally tell!

I was (am) awkward. I was (am) loud. My brother was an addict who soaked up all the air in the room and it was an unspoken rule that we did not discuss this in my home, which added to my awkwardness, I think. I was in college prep and Honors classes but  had no ambition to be a doctor or lawyer or nurse or teacher. I wanted to write. Not a super cool thing for most 16 year old girls.

I was also more interested in becoming a Solid Gold dancer than partying and boys (that is a true story). 

I feel compelled to add that I often hid the things I was interested in because I believed no one else was interested in those things. Retrospectively, which is unfortunately the only way I see things clearly, I can say I think there were other people interested in those things, I just didn't know how to find those people. I made good grades and read books and went to exactly 3 parties my entire high school career. I also feel compelled to add that I was invited to more than 3, but that was my limit, evidently, and I would lie and say I had other plans when people asked me where I'd been Saturday night when "so and so" had their AWESOME party at the Peach Blossom Motel.

I clearly remember standing kind of over in the corner at one of the 3 parties I attended and, literally, eye balling every single person while thinking, "Are you REALLY having fun? Because you look like you're having fun over there playing quarters. Or maybe you're just drunk.Why aren't I having any fun here?" I hated the noise and the crush of people and the drinking and the sort of weird boy/girl dance that was very, very confusing for me. Side note: My husband, who wasn't yet my husband, was at that party playing quarters. He said he was, in fact, having a lot of fun, but doesn't remember most of it.

I wanted to go to the movies and talk about the new book I was reading and maybe grab a pizza without having my ass grabbed. Also, I wanted to remember doing those things.

So, anyway, high school wasn't my gig. College was more my thing, but even there I felt odd and out of place and like maybe I'd missed some secret meeting where the rules were explained in great detail on how this whole socializing thing worked because I didn't really get it and socializing still sometimes (all the time) makes me super nervous which makes me more awkward which makes me more nervous and so it goes. A GREAT cycle to be caught in, by the way. Good times.

Girls often travel in packs and I never found my pack. I was always just sort of floating along, happy to be involved in this group or that one, but never so far in that I got the inside jokes. I was cool with that because some of them were mean. Mean like a rabid dog is mean. But, I also kind of wanted to belong but I didn't know how. Then, I would feel "wrong" and anytime something feels wrong for me I become super offended because that's one of my struggles. Again, an awesome cycle to be caught up in.

But, here's the other thing: Girls are usually awesome when we're one on one, at least in my experience.

So, when I got those emails and had that high school discussion, a thought occurred to me that had truly never really occurred to me, which might be sad or might be totally common.

I was like, "OH MY GOSH!  Maybe we aren't in separate tribes. Maybe we're all one big tribe that's bought into the lie that women are gossipy and mean and cliquish. And we're helping to perpetuate the myth by being a little afraid of each other and cursing under our breath and then running away before we can know each other."  

Or maybe that's just me. I don't know. 

What I know is that for the first time in my life I paused and asked myself, "Why do women suffer alone when there are so many other women out there who share their story and their truth and their path? This isn't high school! Why aren't we lifting one another up and bearing one another's burdens with pride and strength and dignity and cheering like fanatical fans for one another when one of us finds her way and succeeds?" 

So, I'm making this blog that place. I'm going to tell the truth here, even when it's hard. Everyone is included here. There are NO exclusions. That's the only rule. Everyone gets to come to this party just like they are and they are included.

This can be a place for the girl tribe of women who want to love one another well and include everyone and encourage each other to be who we are, find our way and tell our truth. I would LOVE to have some guest bloggers write some awesome articles about their experiences and how they need a tribe or want a tribe or would like to stick a toe in just to see if they can be less scared, too.

This is going to be the place for me that I trust other women to care for me and trust me to care for them, exactly where they are. We can do that. We can totally freakin' do that. We can even do it while we're still in our pajamas! WIN!!!!

If you have a tribe, invite them here. If you don't have a tribe, I'm inviting you here. Everyone is welcome and safe and awesome. 

Even if you like to party and play quarters. I'll just be the one in the corner cheering you on and you can wave at me in the corner and ask me about my book when you're finished. 

Amen, 
Kristi

What is a Friend?

Over the last year, God has brought friendship into my life. 

In my youth, friendship had no real impact on my life and no true depth. Friends were those people I hung out with, gossiped with and those that allowed me to be part of their pack. There was a kind of gratefulness in me that I wasn't alone in my shenanigans but no connection that touched the places I kept the most secret, the most hidden. There was no real reciprocation of love, of sharing, of knowing. In fact, I worked pretty hard to make sure that the truest parts of me were hidden from those that I called friend. (I mean, what if they didn't want to be my friend if they REALLY knew me!  I was messed up, OK?)

In my young adulthood and into my 30's (yep, I am THAT old) I had one friend that I connected with, but to be frank I was never welcomed fully into her life for one reason or another.

I went through an intense year of therapy a few years back and I learned that I often pick people to befriend or hang around with who take from me gratefully but rarely pour into me with equal gratefulness. That's how I made sure I never fully connected and made fulfilling friendships, which, incidentally, meant they were always just a little unfulfilling, even if both of us in the friendship were doing the best we could do at the time.

But, I desperately wanted friendship. So, my therapist challenged me to stop calling everyone, stop taking lunch over "to visit" with people, stop inviting everyone. Stop accepting that they're "busy" and their lives are so much fuller than mine that they couldn't make an hour to connect with me. Just stop. 

My therapist encouraged me to take a five week break from connecting with others and note those that called me, brought lunch over to visit with me, sought me out, asked about me, openly wondered where I'd gone. This was NOT an exercise in seeing who would chase me down. This was an exercise for me to see if what I felt aligned with reality. (How we feel isn't always the truth, in case you didn't know. That was a therapy lesson for me, too.)  That lesson was HARD, but eye-opening. It was a time of deep reflection on what I'd been willing to accept relationally. This was a learning lesson about ME. I learned fully that love is not a feeling. It is an action.

My sweet cousin, who I consider as much a sister as a friend, called within 3 days to find what the heck was wrong with me and let me know she missed me.  She wanted to get together that weekend.  That wasn't really a surprise as she already reciprocated my affection and friendship. What was surprising is that all the other people I called friend were absent for more than four of those five weeks and when I did hear back from them it was a text asking a question or needing advice. That was their choice and that's OK.  No one is required to include me (or you) in their lives. Consequently, I (you, too!) am not required to include them in mine. That was a moment of freedom and sadness, in equal measure. I still care for those people, but they are not the kind of friends that I need and what I need matters, too. (That's a deep lesson right there, in case you missed it.) 

I went through a period of time where Loneliness took up residence beside me and hugged me like an old pal. I prayed for God to send me friends who love me without apologizing for me and my quirks. I prayed for friends I could love, respect and admire. I prayed for friends who weren't afraid to tell me when I was being a jerk but loved me right through my jerkiness.  Friends who not only know my fears and my flaws and my heartaches, but friends who celebrate my joy and my successes and my abilities.  Friends who encourage me to grow and pursue whatever God has in front of me with all the drive and ambition I can muster. Friends who rejoice with me and cry with me for no other reason than because they love me. Friends who want to visit with me and expect me to visit with them in return.

This morning, one of those friends invited the group God has placed in my life for this season (please, Lord, I'm asking that this season be a long, long, long one) to breakfast at her house.  That sweet friend cooked for us, wrote sweet, individual notes for every person present and served us with joy and compassion. She decorated the table for us and used beautiful china that made me feel beautiful, too.  She is everything I admire in a person and epitomizes Christ with skin on, to me.  She inspires me and encourages me to be a better person without judging me when I'm not.  She loves people in a way I have only EVER seen in her and I am praying that God shows me how to love people in that way, using my own personal talents and skills. I love her.

Two of the other ladies who were present know me.  Really, really know me. I went to high school with one of them, so we have a long history that makes us comfortable in a way that's kind of more awesome than chocolate but we weren't true friends until the last 6 months or so.  I'm so grateful for her. She is honest and funny and quirky and lovely and she makes me feel happy and safe and like I can be exactly what I am with no apologies. She is a fabulous example of what someone with a forgiving heart looks like and a walking example of the restorative love that only Christ can bring. I love her. 

One of the other ladies who shared breakfast with us is someone I've known for a long time. In true hurting hearts form, we circled each other for a while before we decided we might like each other. (she kind of didn't like me at first and I don't remember if I liked her or not when we first met because I don't remember exactly first meeting her...that's how I roll, y'all. Captain Oblivious.)  But then, at some point, we talked. Then we laughed. Then, we stopped circling and started seeing. Then we loved each other. And then we trusted each other and that's the real stuff right there, folks. We are a lot alike, even though most people would miss that about us. She calls me on my crap and trusts me to call her out on hers, too. She is hard-working, funny, honest and real. I love her. 

All three of these women inspire me to be a better mother, a better wife and, most importantly, a better version of myself.  They don't want to change or fix or crowd.  They just love and I get to love them in return.

So for all that rambling, what is a friend?  It's hard to define, isn't it? I suspect it's different for each of us, but we all have a few parts that look the same. It's not just a companion. My dog is a companion. We NEED real relationships with real people. We NEED people. We NEED people who see us and know us and love us, anyway.  We need the opportunity to love the people in our lives with our whole hearts and trust that they love us back and they take the time to SHOW us that love without judgment or harm.  We need to be able to share with the people in our lives and know that they honor the sharing. A friend is someone who sees all of you and loves you like what they see is wonderful and fabulous and good. That's a friend and I have them. I am giddy with that knowledge, people.

 I pray that every single person reading this knows the truest Friend and that He sends you a few precious, beloved friends who love you in the way you need to be loved.


"Now that you have purified yourselves by obeying the truth so that you have sincere love for each other, love one another deeply, from the heart."  1 Peter 1:22