Kentucky Mom to Twins and More

Tuesday, May 14, 2019

Be a friend... or get out

I don't have many friends. I never have. Something about who I am—what I say, what I do, how I carry myself, etc—I'm guessing are all reasons for this. Sure, there are 600+ people on my 'friends list', but I think I only have a handful of people that I call REAL friends—people I trust with my every thought or to reach out if I ever needed something. I was out the other night with one of these friends. We chatted and swapped motherhood stories. We drank wine. We laughed (way too loud) in public. Since she is a great friend and friends are honest, she told me that there are some people out there talking about me behind my back. Judging me. Maybe criticizing or saying things about what I do, what I say, where I go (and with whom), and possibly how I may or may not be screwing up my kids.
I didn't ask her your name(s). Because I don't want to start treating you shitty. And I know that if I knew who you were, I would most definitely treat you pretty shitty and kick you out of my life. You may go to church with me. Your kids probably go to school with mine. We might live in the same neighborhood. We may both drive SUVs. We probably have a lot of similarities—but I can assure you of one that we don't... and that's the simple fact that you've never had to find your best friend of 20 years dead on the floor on a random Sunday morning. You didn't have to bury your kids' father. You don't hear the words your children say to you about that at bedtime. You probably have never cried alone in a bathroom for weeks solid nor felt an aloneness so sobering that you didn't want to be around anymore. You don't feel the overpowering guilt of still being here on this Earth when the better half of a marriage and the head of your family is still in the ground after a year and a half and will be forever. You realize that you will never be able to let go of your love for your dead spouse no matter how many dates you go on. I make it well known I don't think I'm a perfect mother. I rarely make great decisions. You don't have to like me. You don't have to like my foul mouth or my short temper. You don't have to concur with any of my decisions—especially the one that allows me to go on a date and smile and laugh again with someone. But you don't get to judge me. My real friends—the ones who love me no matter what I say or do—they don't and they won't.
So if you can't be a REAL friend to me, please go ahead and get out. Hit unfriend. You're the last thing I need in my life. Bye.

No comments:

Post a Comment