It’s frightening to imagine the sort of mother I’d be, the romantic relationships I’d have (or still be in), and what ill-fitting, out-of-fashion clothes and badly-colored, permed hair I’d flaunt … were it not for my girlfriends.
Certainly, I wouldn’t know childhood summers spent in absolute freedom … swimming all day without adult supervision, practicing espionage around the farm, and riding three-wheelers on old railroad tracks. Together, we figured out how to insert a tampon; the joys of Judy Blume, Sweet Valley High, and MTV; how to support one another’s confused, broken hearts while our respective parents were divorcing; and that best friends can be soul mates, too … after all, we’re still besties.
Because of my girlfriends, a young, quiet – but secretly wild-hearted – girl learned: how to do a downward facing dog and headstand; Sunday School songs and Christmas programs; how to love someone even if their room is a mess and there’s an odor coming from stinky socks … or – gag – old ham (I’ll give you a moment to digest that. Ew!); the thrill of sneaking cigarettes and smoking them in a dilapidated house; how to put on makeup; all the lyrics to Footloose; what it feels like to be defended when your pesky younger brother beats down your bedroom door; and that lemons can bleach your hair perhaps as well as Sun-In.
Had she not moved to O’ahu, I would’ve missed out on driving home to my religious university at 6AM on a Sunday, after dancing and drinking all night at a club, just in time to catch the sunrise kiss the jagged emerald windward mountains, and hear her whisper, “Becky, this is proof God exists. Look at these mountains. They’re so beautiful.” The best sermon I’ve ever heard.
When all you can afford is a bag of rice, she takes you out to dinner, buys you a new pair of goodjeans, lets you borrow her cutestskirt for that special date, and throws you a birthday party. She only lovingly teases you about the night you…
…Instead, she reminds you that sometimes boys don’t like you when you think they do. And though she told you this when you were 12, she doesn’t mind helping that fact sink in, by urging you – at 40 – to re-watch He’s Just Not That Into You. A million times, if necessary.
See, these friends – since the age of four, seven, and 11 – end up being your longest long-term relationships.
In fact, they drive to another state, surprising you upon returning home from a foreign country (after learning you’re getting divorced) so they can make you breakfast in bed and take your daughter to the park while you just cry. They make you a friendship scrapbook, reminding you there’s love outside marriage. Together, you honor the tradition of female companionship and comfort food … brownies (with caramel) and copious amounts of ice cream after an at-home dance party … of course.
And then there are those you meet along the way.
She shows you how to dress for your new figure and embrace that, instead of hide. She encourages you – strongly – to meet the guy you fall in love with, without worrying too much about the future. After the break-up, she takes you out on your 21st birthday, teaches you how to attract a man with eye contact (this stillworks), tells you you’re beautiful, and that you don’t need a guy … but suggests a little fun along the way.
When you question the way you were raised and the things you were taught, she continues to accept you just the same. She trusts you with secrets that reveal she, too, doesn’t fit the perfect mold … and you love her for it. You drive to camp with blaring music feeding your young souls.
After having shut down part of who you are, she reignites your inner free spirit – your inner goddess – by picking wild flowers and being shamelessly on fire. She, in fact, shows you the power of the roaring feminine, the bravery to relish in yourself and ravish life whole.
When you live in a different country, she invites you into her life and together you: watch ER on Thursday nights and drink wine; learn about her culture; cry and hold eachother’s hands; try veggie loaf on Thanksgiving; go on safaris; eat dosas and drink coffee for hours; have breakfast every Sunday; meet her entire family and become part of it; talk about spirituality and writing; sit in a café while she generously helps you plan out the next steps of your career, completely believing in your ability; ride elephants; get twirly; bond over reggae; go to eachother’s weddings; become entrepreneurs; spend hours talking over coffee; drive to the airport when you’re moving home because of a divorce and her strong presence, for a few more minutes, will get you through; experience Italy; learn that the love of friendship surpasses religion, ethnicity, culture, age, language, distance and years apart.
That time when you decide, finally, you’re leaving that super bad relationship? She sneaks off from work to help you load up all your belongings — stuffed in black garbage bags. She teaches you how to smoke a cigar, slowly, as you sit outside on a starry night, wrapped in blankets, talking. And when you can’t light the cigar properly, she’ll do it for you.
Your girlfriends love your child – without judgment, exactly the way she is – as though she’s a part of their family, pledging they’ll always be there for her … her own little guardian fairy mommies. Because they arethere for your child. Perhaps they simply get your daughter a Bandaid and hold her while she’s crying; teach her how to vacuum; dance with her; and take her for the night so you – a single mom – can have an evening off.
Your beautiful friend will come over when you’re feeling down, bringing you apples from the orchard; she’ll cook you countless meals; and in the summer, she’ll make you nix the black for the red toenail polish while getting pedicures. You share secrets (and Pinterest boards), have grown-up sleepovers, and talk until 4AM.
When you want to howl at the moon and forgo the high road, girlfriends howl with you … then lead you back gently – or firmly (whichever is necessary) – back on path.
At those times when you’re self-absorbed and being a not-so-good friend, they tell you. You learn forgiveness and acceptance. The importance of boundaries. They teach you to a better mother. A better woman. A better friend. A better wife or girlfriend. A better daughter. A better sister. Better at returning phone calls. Just … better.
The beautiful women who have graced my life – whether for a short or long period of time – have opened up something new in my world. Let me see a new way. And thank god that also included a way to much, much better hair.
And so I love you. And I’m eternally grateful.