Entries Tagged 'friends' ↓

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When I was in High School, I was a missionary. Very religious, I believed in what I was doing, and I felt compelled that it was my duty to share it with everyone I came into contact with.

Cut to, oh dear, 20 years later? Okay, let’s not be too specific.

But, here I am, considering everything I feel, everything I once held dear, everything I once believed, under a completely different microscope. Religious? Me??? People who know me now would likely describe me as free-thinking, open-minded, probably a little too much swearing….definitely not what you think of when you think “religious”!

But, then I log onto Facebook (Yeah, I know, but it’s good for Networking. Right?) and see all these kids I went to high school with: guys who wouldn’t date me because I was the ‘missionary dater’, girls who snubbed me because I was too ’straight laced’, people who were my friends no matter what, mixed in with a lot who crossed my path but didn’t make a big impact (and probably vice-versa!). And what’s the common denominator?

They’ve all got religious stuff — bumper stickers, prayer groups, church affiliations, etc. And I’m at the other end of the spectrum.

Don’t get me wrong; God and I have an understanding. It’s just not rooted in any church and it’s very personal.

Funny that. Personal. I once pissed off a guy I respected more than most in High School. Why? Because I asked him about his religion. Or rather I asked if he shared mine. He became so angry that I would ask him such a personal question that he stopped being my friend. The irony is, I think he’s now got religious stuff all over his Facebook page. I haven’t even asked if he’d like to be my Facebook friend.

So what happened? Clearly we’ve all changed. But why have they gravitated toward religion while I’ve moved away from it. Is it just geography? They stayed ‘there’ and I’ve moved to a whole other world?

Or is it something else? Is it about bravery? Do some people feel able to explore while others feel the need for something comfortable?

Or is it knowing yourself? Am I okay exploring something unknown, but they need something familiar?

Is it about right and wrong? Have I strayed from the path, while they’ve found it again? I don’t think so, but they might.

It’s strange sometimes the way things happen and how they turn out. Everything in my life has been leading me (pushing me?) to this place. I have to think the same has been happening to them. So who’s doing the pushing? And why such different directions? And who’s really happiest about it?

I honestly can’t say I’d change anything, or indeed, change places with any of them. But I have to think they’d say the same.

Maybe it’s all just about being comfortable in your own skin, whatever form that comes in. I suppose the difference is, I’m not trying to convert anyone to my way of thinking now. I’m just being who I am, right here, right now.

When I was pregnant with my first child, I had not been in England long and I didn’t have many friends. None of the friends I did have were pregnant and I felt as if I had no one to talk to that was going through the same thing I was. So my husband, being the Internet-focused man he was and is, found me a mailing list.

As I was due in May, I joined a list called MayMoms. It was a complete turning point in my life.

At full strength there were over a hundred of us, women all due to give birth in May of 1996. We shared fears and concerns, we asked for ‘reality checks’ over whether we were imagining things that were happening to us, we talked about babies kicking and growing bigger and midwives and obstetricians and birth plans and everything to do with having a baby. And when our babies were born we talked about weights and feeding and poops (It’s amazing how much new mothers can have to say about baby poop!) and milestones. And later we discussed baby blues and postpartum depression and finding yourself apart from being ‘Mom’. And then came siblings and school and so on.

We discussed our lives. Some of us even met in person. We made our own yearbooks, complete with photos of our family members. We knew each other.

I was connected to a whole group of women (admittedly mostly white collar, upper-middle-class, highly intelligent, educated women — not anywhere near the norm of all women and we knew that) that were my friends. I knew these women, cared about them, gave my input when they asked for it, and asked for theirs in return. We talked members through illness, divorces, infidelity, unemployment, buying and selling houses, moving to new countries, you name it.

And just yesterday, one of us died.

I haven’t read the list actively in the past year. I’ve checked in now and then, and one woman in particular has been good to flag up important news to those of us who had become ‘on the fringe’ of the group. It was her email that let me know I’d lost a friend.

A friend I’ve never met in person, never spoken to on the phone, I probably couldn’t pick her out of a lineup. But she was my friend. We met in the virtual world, far from my everyday life, but our connection was real. I knew about her illness, that she had cancer. I knew she went into remission, and then I knew she was ill again. And now she’s gone.

I will miss her.