by tashmcgill | Aug 7, 2015 | Friendship, Relationships
Men and women need each other, and they need to be friends. However, rarely do people write about what happens to precious, life-giving male-female friendships when friends find lovers that are not each other.
I’m lucky to have a lot of married/engaged/commited men in my life. I enjoy their friendship and mostly I love their women too. Sometimes, my dear male friends have become so because I loved their wives first anyway. I’ve successfully negotiated relationship mergers before.. guy friends who have married and their wives have become as close as the husband ever was.
But it’s tiresome, heartwrenching work because there are moments you have to sacrifice the role your boy bestie played, sometimes for years.
A woman like me, needs men in her life. Companions and champions. Buddies and trusted advisors. I need them because I have a wealth of women in my life but if I don’t continue to have positive, thriving relationships with great men – I might risk believing the press that no man you’re not sleeping with is worth your time.
Truthfully, I think these relationship transitions are more important than we realise. The fabric of social groups and communities is woven with the complexities of many different types of interactions between men and women. So while I am writing about my male friends, this is true for many of us regardless of gender.
Sometimes, a rare thing happens and you end up adoring the woman that makes your friend so happy, even more than you loved your friend to begin with. Those relationships are amazing and I’m lucky to have a few of them. Sometimes, the one you thought was never good enough turns out to be worse and you have to bite your tongue from saying all sorts of things. Sometimes you don’t have to say anything because you’re so relieved your friend is no longer suffering. That’s happened a couple of times.
Sometimes, you end up seeing your friends through their weddings, marriages, children and then through their divorces. That’s happened a few times too.
In any of those circumstances, there is a season where your friend is lost to you, replaced by a creature called ‘Stranger That Knows Your Deep Secrets’. Your secrets, once shared in trust between the two of you are now the shared property of your friend and their lover. You have to re-introduce yourself and hope they are equally as trustworthy. You have to hope that they choose to love you, as you choose to love them.
You hope happiness lasts for them, forever. You hope not to lose them forever.
Mostly, the change is within you. You learn to say goodbye differently and hello less often. You grow accustomed to a changed priority, a new role, a different place. ‘Stranger That Knows Your Deep Secrets’ is no longer as available, for good reason. They too, are undergoing personal adjustment. Avoid bitterness.
You have lost your friend for a season, maybe forever. You cannot retrieve him from the place he has arrived at; that’s not your right. You now have only the choice of waiting, hoping and nurturing some expression of a relationship that somehow bridges the stranger he has become and the memory of who he was. In it you become a stranger too; a stranger to his partner, a stranger to the friendship that you had that now merges to be something different.
More often than not, you are no longer on the inside of their life, even though once you shared dreams and thoughts. Indeed, crisis and tears and whispered words float past their ears, the smiling partner who knows enough of your face to warrant knowing a measure of your heart. You will whisper, ‘I miss you’ and it will go unheard in the depths where you needed to be heard.
You will pick yourself up. Your friend may one day return but you are less likely to have the same sense of comraderie you did before. You can’t be forced into loving companionship with his wife, and you can’t force yourself upon them, they are two, they are strong.. and they wholeheartedly go about their existence. This is the way the world should be.
You won’t talk too loudly about it, because boys and girls struggle so much to be friends anyway. You won’t be too demanding. There is no sensitive way to say I love you, but I do not know your wife enough to love her yet. There is a sadness admist your joy in your friend’s delight.
See, in the corner of your heart, you always fear that you had your friend by default .. that he has only room for his mother, sisters, wife and daughters in the woman-shaped spaces in his life. You wonder how you got there to begin with, and you know you’ll never be the same.
His empty space is shaped like a brother, within your heart.
by tashmcgill | Jul 11, 2015 | Culture & Ideas, Love & Marriage
I think I’m just about done writing and thinking about this marriage business. There’s maybe two more posts in me for the next little while and then I’ll be putting it aside. My friend Bethany pointed out that it’s been something I’ve talked and thought a lot about over the last couple of years. It was like a warning bell. Until recent years, I haven’t really talked about being single and I certainly don’t want to get stuck with only one topic of conversation.
Tomorrow, my best friend from high school is getting married, again. While I’ve been to a lot of second weddings, this is the first one I’ve been to where I’ve been to both events, let alone had the same job at each. Years ago, she asked me to write and read a poem for her wedding as I stood beside her in a burgundy bridesmaid dress. This week, I’ll read lyrics to a song they love and I have no idea how it’s going to turn out, but I’m hopeful. As she said, “We’re professionals, so there’s no rehearsal.” So true, my friend, so true.
Her first wedding is best left in the past, it’s become a poignant and intimate thing that is best shared between two friends who have loved each other for a long time. Together, we can laugh, groan and cry about it. Her second wedding will feel more true, more authentic at least. Less triviality.
The first time around, mutual friends and acquaintances fluttered around with reassuring and unfounded promises, the way they tend to do with bridesmaids.
“You’ll be next!”
“Can’t wait for your wedding, it’ll be such a party!”
Even the band (of friends) joked they would have to stay together long enough to play my wedding dance. They’ve long since broken up. There is no boyfriend. Nor a girlfriend, which I’m asked surprisingly a lot. I don’t have an ex-husband to roast. There are a handful of awkward first-date stories that I use to entertain people. Tomorrow’s questions will not be as fun.
In the last year, my two sisters have become engaged and one is married, the other soon to be. My best friend from high school is about to marry again, as are some of my other recently divorced friends. Whether it’s the first time round, or second I feel joy for them. It’s the circumstance however, that’s pushed me to examine the deep, dark things of my life. To look at what is, embrace it and move into a different way of living with the ‘What-If’.
Sometimes life is like going to the dentist. You think you’re fine, until he prods that molar with the sharp pointy thing. Next thing you know, you’re paying for a cavity you didn’t realise you had.
I’m selfish and afraid. I’m afraid of disappointing people, afraid of facing the same old questions and the same old reassurances, when what I want to say is ‘No, stop. Just let it be what it is.’ I’m also learning to let go of my ego, that wants to asks things like, why them and why not me. Dark, dangerous, stupid questions. I’m not afraid that I’ll be single forever and I certainly don’t care about not spending a fortune on a one-day party. I’m afraid that I won’t be ok, if I’m alone. I’m afraid I’ll be too okay and that every day I move forward with my life into a complete, fulfilling, do-all-the-things world, I get further and further from the possibility of meeting someone to share that world with me.
I’ve lived half of my life with the expectation I’d meet someone and we’d re-design the rest of it together. A halfway co-design of the future was the plan I had. That’s not what it is right now, so I’m having to design the second half myself. More on that later.
What-Is, What-Isn’t and What-If.
I’m trying to give something up here, trying to grasp on to something new, this next phase re-design of my life. I’m trying to talk myself into a new way of thinking, which is largely about moving into a new phase of life. I’ll tell you about it once I have the words, but I’m currently in transition.
We all know people who get stuck in What-Isn’t. That singular focus and deep misery that comes from not seeing the wood for the trees. Longing for something they don’t have. Not just single people, but people unhappy in their jobs, their work, their health, their relationships. People who wish for change but do nothing about it, people who live stuck in What-Isn’t.
I think you can get stuck in the What-If too. Afraid to move in any direction in case the magic you were looking for comes along. What if they really change this time? What if my soulmate lives here instead of there; I’ll just stay put. What if I won’t be ok?
I’m trying to give up the What-Isn’t and the What-If. They are addictive, slimy little emotional ego drugs. To be fair, for a girl who lives by the motto ‘do all the things’, it’s not What-Isn’t that trips me up. I’ve never been one to wallow in what I don’t have – but even the twinge of “why her, why not me?” has shaken me enough to re-think my thinking. Just a glimmer of What-Isn’t thinking is too dangerous to give a foothold, like getting high one time and liking it just a little too much.
Earlier this year I nearly overdosed on What-If thinking. It is a slippery slide of self-doubt.
Being Present.
When people write and talk about being Present, this is what we mean. Cling to What-Is and live deeply out of that. Don’t dwell or give too much time to the What-Isn’t and What-if, lest you get stuck. Of course, the healthier you are the less dangerous the What-Isn’t and What-If thinking is. Sometimes life is like going to the dentist. You think you’re fine, until he prods that molar with the sharp pointy thing. Next thing you know, you’re paying for a cavity you didn’t realise you had.
by tashmcgill | Dec 30, 2014 | Bodies, Community, Culture & Ideas, Friendship, Mind, Relationships
Your friend is your needs answered.
He is your field which you sow with love and reap with thanksgiving.
And he is your board and your fireside.
For you come to him with your hunger, and you seek him for peace.
There is family; whom you cannot choose and there is fraternity – the brothers and sisters you do choose.
Do I value friendship over all other things? Yes. Friendship – true, complete companionship outlasts all. Friendship is the root of love. You depend on your friend, but you are not dependent on him. It is in friendship that we learn to see someone fully as they are, we learn how to live with the differences between us and remain loyal regardless. We learn to see the truth of people rather than our ideal of them. Friendship will outlast romance, marriages, the birth and death of children, the death and decay of lovers, career changes. Friendship is a paradox – to hold another so close in your heart yet not be dependent entirely on them in the same way we need a spouse. Friendship spans continents and endures the years.
We live in a complex culture, hindered by lack of inhibition yet a proliferation of obstacles to true friendship between men and women. But if we are to navigate this complex culture, we must do with the art of friendship high in our priority. Not just friendship between like of our like, but friendship between the genders (and transgender). More than ever, men and women need to understand one another and engage with each other in meaningful ways outside the limitations of potential partnership and sexual liaison. (more…)
by tashmcgill | Dec 15, 2014 | Friendship, Health, Love & Marriage, Relationships
I wish I could say that I wisely hold back in loving the people around me. But it’s not true – I’ve never once been a ‘hold back on love’ kind of girl. Which means I’ve loved deeply and truly a bunch of times, but I can honestly say I’ve never been in love, not really.
And now it might be too late, because I’m falling out of love with the idea of falling in love. At least, in the way we think about it. The way the movies tell it, or at least, the way most movies tell it.
Was there ever a more unlikely couple than Steve Carell and Keira Knightley, confessing their love to one another as the world ended in the film ‘Seeking A Friend For The End Of The World’? But by the time the story reached an inevitable conclusion, it was obvious that neither character could have found a partner better matched. It was not a long list of shared interests and mutual sexual attraction that made their love story so compelling or so real – and it was, despite contrived circumstances, honest and truthful about what love can be.
Instead, they found in one another an honest, endearing, truthful and compassionate friendship. Both characters were able to be themselves and grew to a more honest and engaged individual when supported and encouraged by the other. They gently inspired one another to a better self.
But I believe that this what we should all be looking for, a friend for the end of the world who loves us as ourselves, rather than an idea of us. The friend who brings us home to ourselves with humility and the one who helps us feel capable of climbing mountains. It’s idealistic but that’s kind of beautiful – for a girl as smart as I am to recognize the naïve innocence of that desire and desire it anyway.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not trying to pretend that chemistry and attraction aren’t a really big deal in successful relationships. But I also know from experience that the deepest attraction grows from the heart and mind. From the soul, I guess you could say.
True passion requires a lot of fuel, on an ongoing basis. I’ve watched love fade from the eyes of people who once couldn’t keep their hands off each other. If the sparks are your only fuel, you might fast run out of matches. True love takes a long time to grow. We confuse the possibility of love for Love itself and where we ought to nurture true and deep companionship, we burn out in a flash of heat and sparks.
And here’s the truth hidden in the detail of a movie of a story we should pay more attention to: sometimes the best friend we’ve been looking for our whole life is just within reach, within eye contact or a phone call. We just don’t recognize it when we’re busy looking for something that feels like love (sparks) but isn’t friendship.
The older I get, the less I’m looking for lusty sparks, I’m looking for a different kind of chemistry. One that is no less exciting, but a little more substantial. Is there a chance we can share a common outlook? Is there a chance I could care about you more than myself? It is probably a terrible sign for my love life, but the truth is I’m no longer looking for a fairy-tale kind of love story. I’m seeking a friend for the end of the world and that makes dating even more of a challenge. The more experience you have of what true Love looks like, the more you are able to recognize what is good and what is not worth holding on to.
In the same way you might study Van Gogh originals to best recognize a forgery, once you’ve recognized the kind of life-changing love that can be experienced in the embrace of a true deep friend, everything else feels like a cheap knock-off. I have too much good love in my life already, so it feels intimidating and impossible to start from scratch.
I’m looking for someone who can follow the sub-text of a conversation, who shares the meta-narrative, the one I laugh with like no one else and who embraces my sentimental, romantic nature. While I don’t believe that any one love can meet all our needs, I’m looking for my best friend and the one who knows I’m theirs.
Here’s why: if anybody is going to stand a chance in making love work for longer than the sparks do, it will be those who are friends and continue to nurture that friendship and relationship above all things. That’s what I’ve learned watching my parents, my friends and dozens of disasters.
I’m talking about the kind of friendship where trials and triumph matter as much to you as to your friend and layers of sub-text and meta-narrative accompany every experience. Where trivial moments of laughter, bad humour and everyday experiences meld effortlessly into what matters and what does not. Sometimes the deepest friendships appear shallow because the foundation is so deep. A deep foundation that anchors people to a common outlook is the richest and best kind of love, no matter who it is shared between.
While I would gladly embrace the heat and spark of new love, I can’t wait for old love. I’d give anything to fall in love with someone who already knows my best stories, my deepest hopes and maddest dreams. I’d love to fall in love with a friend and skip ahead to holding hands.
by tashmcgill | Jun 18, 2014 | Culture & Ideas, Friendship
There’s a story that tells of two friends walking through the desert.
During one particularly difficult part of their journey they had an argument, and one friend slapped the other in the face. The one who got slapped was hurt, but without saying anything, wrote in the sand:
“TODAY MY BEST FRIEND SLAPPED ME IN THE FACE.”
They kept on walking until they found an oasis, where they decided to take a rest and go for a swim. The one who had been slapped got stuck in the mire and started drowning, but the friend saved him. After he recovered from the near drowning, he wrote on a stone:
“TODAY MY BEST FRIEND SAVED MY LIFE.”
The friend who had slapped and saved his best friend asked him, “After I hurt you, you wrote in the sand and now, you write on a stone, why?” (more…)
