If I could go back in time, I would tell myself to hold tight to the female friendships I have cultivated. Let’s face it, when you head for your forties-well, you start to realize what is important in life and what is detrimental. You begin to stand up for yourself, and by the time you reach menopause? You’re a whirling dervish of angst on the road to having no female friendships because you have told off just about every friend you have, for one reason or another.
I have lost sisters near and dear to my heart-but the loss was temporary, as those were the women who treated me with disrespect, dishonesty-they were not the friends I thought they were-but it didn’t make it any easier to end the relationship. My best friend in sixth grade (let’s just call her Shitstorm) threw a bowling ball at me because I had the highest average in the league. She was also responsible for bringing a picture of me into school in the seventh grade, one in which I had cut my own bangs, and let’s just say she passed it on to my high school crush. Mortifying. I was friends with her for 30 more years, until she did the unthinkable…..that’s right, she was another narcissist, and crossing her was akin to playing hopscotch with Satan.
But when you hit your fifties? Why, you hold on to your female friends like grim death-the ones who love you no matter what state you are in, root for you when you are up against it, speak to your husband when your sister pushes you over the edge and you grab that bottle of vodka………why, they are your true blue tribe, and you have earned each other’s trust. I am not saying there won’t be disagreements (holy crap on a cracker, that’s part of the equation ladies) but you will learn that nothing is more important than women who get and cherish you, zits, nervous breakdowns and relapses be damned.
Why, I can’t spare a square…….I adore my gal pals, each and every one of them. And I will hang on for dear life-sorry ladies, you’ve been served.