On The Being Of Women

I've been chewing on this subject for over a week.  A bit of personal distance, for objectivity's sake, was required.  I simply did not have it.  It's probably more of a compound subject: women supporting women AND friendship.  Though they are not mutually exclusive, one can exist without the other.

In the course of relaying sensitive information to a friend I don't see very often regarding her child, I felt the need to disclose uncomfortable feelings I'd had in regards to what I felt were her perceptions of my parenting and of me in general.  There was a substantial amount of background involved, and there was a need to be extremely clear and precise, so I sent her a lengthy e-mail.  In the past, we've communicated quite well in this manner.  (As it was a complicated matter, I've simplified for privacy and the sake of space on this blog.)  I wondered if I had done anything to cause her to feel irritated with me.  She works full-time; I'm a stay-at-home mom.  In the past year, the tone of her comments and conversations seemed to suggest I had it easier than her.  Was there a grain, or more, of truth to any of this?  Was I sensing correctly?  

And, as time went on, I sensed that she felt I was giving more energy to my brother and sister than to my children or husband; in her mind, my siblings with dubious backgrounds are getting what they deserve and are lost causes.  Though I don't force my viewpoint concerning my brother who spent half of his life in prison or my sister who suffered a post-partum psychotic episode and drowned my niece and nephew, the people I keep close understand my commitment even if they don't share the perspective.  So, while I have no problem with her divergent opinions, the idea that I wasn't giving enough focused attention to my children was sticking in my craw.  Though I tried to brush the tremors of concern I was feeling off to the side, I couldn't rid myself of the discomfit.  I'd reached a point where I had to unload the burden and clear the table of our friendship.  It all felt too secretive in the holding -- the table was pretty darned crowded.

For three days, I received no reply.  Then, a text one afternoon saying she was not ignoring me but between work, talking with her child, and going about her regular busy-ness, she didn't have time for an adequate response.  That I could believe.  I waited.

Finally, her return volley across the bow arrived in my MSN inbox.  Overall, it was an exceptional e-mail; I let her know as much.  She covered the drama behind the news I'd had to share.  She reminded me that many people disagree with the parental decisions of others though they support them as parents overall.  (I agree, totally.)  And then she proceeded to unload her issues with the typical frankness which marks her personality.

First, she acknowledged that I worked very hard to maintain my household.  She also wanted me to acknowledge right back that she had far less free time to do things like baking, exercising, entertaining friends, gardening, etc.  "There is huge difference in the life of a stay at home mother and working mother. I do think you are a valuable, caring, giving and wonderful person. I know the Lord is proud of all you do. You have been through a bunch of touch times and tragedy in your life but you still have a positive attitude." 

I felt dismissed in that moment.  Her statement reminded me of the time my basically absentee father last saw me at my brother's college graduation over thirteen years ago.  While he seemed quite entranced with John's academic accomplishments at Cal-Poly and spent hours conversing with him, the few minutes he gave me consisted of noting my kids were healthy and good-looking and stating I was a good mother.  That hurt.  I knew my decision to ditch college had miffed my dad, but I didn't realize how low on the totem pole my stay-at-home status placed me.  My friend's words had the same effect though it was not her intent.  It hit my sensitive bullseye regarding the intellectual and life sacrifices I made to remain at home instead of striking out in the big world of outside work.  Early on in my marriage, I worked while my husband also worked his way up through entry-level jobs.  When he reached a certain breadwinning capability, we decided that it was important for one of us to remain at home with our three children.  It was a conscious decision which we were willing to support financially as necessary.

But I took a giant step back and absorbed the panoramic view.  I'm very fortunate to lead the life that I do.  It has allowed me to help my children over and through a few substantial roadblocks; it has gifted me with the time to help others in my community, extended family, and church as needed; it provided me with the emotional space to heal from my childhood and develop strong roots upon a rebuilt foundation.  There are times when I experience guilt over this life I've been given.  But my friends remind me that I didn't just luck into it.  Thank God for them.  It is unfortunate that these lifestyles create fissures between women.  There are pros and cons, stresses and conditions, to both ways of life.  Neither should be snubbed or judged.

Then, she said that she didn't bother to make any friends because she had no space in her life for them.  It was work all day during the week, followed by time centered around her child, husband, and house.  That was it.  I must have read those lines several times over.  I ran a mental finger down the list of working friends I knew.  Especially those with children under the age of eighteen.  Did they stick strictly to the homefront?  Were they friendless?  Did they accept that working precluded any outside acquaintances?  The answer to each question was, "No." 
 
The woman down the block meets her bevy of gal pals once a week at a local establishment for a few drinks and lots of laughter.  One of my out-of-state friends seems to meet new acquaintances every other week, scoring more buddies than my social butterfly high schoolers; though come to think of it, she WAS a social thing in high school.  Another woman, a working professional long before marriage and motherhood, maintains her stable of friends and has added a few who are connected to her son's life.  Their husbands and children are not suffering.  In fact, I contend that women with ongoing friendships make for happier husbands and children.  Sharing the load with our girlfriends, getting feedback, receiving our strokes, and releasing the emotional hounds onto trusted ears, allows us to lead fuller lives.  They assist us in stepping out of the boundaries our homes and families can often impose on us before we know it has even happened.  We need fresh air to break up the staleness that stress and busy can cause.  Regardless of the time commitment to our connections -- an hour a few times a week by phone or the weekend girl trip to the beach.  It hurt me to to contemplate the isolation my friend was imposing on herself, all the while believing it to be a necessary sacrifice.  I told her as much. 
 
In closing her honest communication with me, she revealed that I often made her feel stupid and inferior in countless areas, including my immediate family and friend relationships, fitness, recycling, housekeeping, intelligence, entertaining, cooking and nutrition, and wardrobe.  I must say I was dumbfounded.  Mainly because I actually go out of my way to ensure people don't think I feel superior.  Never would I put down another woman to feel better about myself.  That action, in and of itself, would cause me to hold myself in the lowest of esteem.   There was a time in our lives, before everything went into mutual hyperdrive, where the two of us walked and talked about every topic under the sun.  Anyone who knows me knows that I fully disclose.  I'm open.  Perhaps more than is deemed appropriate by some.  I get that.  So, I was shocked to realize that this poor woman had developed this perception of me in relation to her.  "It is really hard to explain . . .  you probably don’t mean to do it on purpose but sometimes you make me feel worthless. I am not even sure how this can change. Maybe it is just me."
 
Her final line is the key.  The misconceptions that she held concerning my regular everyday self were originating from within herself.  I realize this is not always the case, but for many of us it is.  In the areas where we are lacking or unable to meet goals we've set, there's a sensitivity which causes us to react  in a negative manner with other women.  What we misconstrue as failures, weaknesses, or absences in our character or affect, cause us to key in on the perceived success in which we think others are reveling.  Ordinary comments take on extraordinary meaning.  Small cracks of insecurity broaden into chasms of regret and envy.  Before you know it, two perfectly good and striving women, both solid to the core, are awash in a sea of misunderstanding which leads to underlying, unnamed, toxic tension.  We simply can't afford to have this continue.  The buck needs to stop here before we pass it on to our daughters.
 
We must be willing to lay it out there for examination.  As did my friend and myself in the course of several heartfelt e-mails.  Usually, it pales when removed from the doubtful darkness and placed in the litmus of light.  We need one another.  Only a woman can truly comprehend what another woman is going through.  And men, who also require the company of other men, would prefer we discuss certain female issues with a fellow female.  Period.  No pun intended.
 
Whether a deep bond is formed or not, where one or more women are gathered there should exist an atmosphere of support and respect for the lives we all lead.  It's called the sisterhood for a reason, ladies.  Let us walk purposefully, all the while listening clearly, and responding with circumspection.  It works.