Uh. This is real. Not having a best girlfriend for real, is real. (Name left out for obvious reasons) was it. I told her everything. We texted all day, every day. We talked about clothes and tried them on. We talked about food and made it and she never judged me. We talked about fitness and did stuff together and celebrated one another. We were both in recovery and both working through relationships. She helped me with my hair and makeup. We drank coffee. We went out and did shit.
I miss her. And it’s also OK that she’s gone. It’s OK that she has found other people in her life that do for her what I can no longer, and it’s as OK that I haven’t found any one person to do that for me. I have friends, and I’m not saying that I don’t. But I don’t have a best friend, a ride or die, right here anymore. I have very close friends that live in Pennsylvania, two in particular that I talk to when I’m able. When we talk on the phone, we don’t skip a beat, and we do what we can to stay connected. Those friends are amazing women. They’re also hours away.
I’m feeling sorry for myself and judging myself. I’m judging myself for being sensitive and seemingly easily disappointed. I’m judging myself for having expectations that when people tell me they’ll show up, that they will. I’m judging myself for stating my peace and sharing my feelings instead of lowering my needs and expectations and just letting shit go. I’m judging myself for taking things personally and feeling less than and disqualified for not having better women in my life. That’s dramatic and generalized, because I have tons of amazing women surrounding me, but it’s also how I feel right this second.
I’m almost 35 and I’ve been sober for 16 ½ years. I got my life together in college and never looked back (aside from the romantic side of the house but it seems that it’s been organized since). I take things seriously and those things are important to me. Those things like fitness, health, recovery, work, and life itself. I can be intense. I can be rigid. I can be sassy – real sassy. I can say what I mean and sometimes I still say it mean. I care deeply, which is why I’m even talking about this at all.
I say all of that because as a result, I’ve attracted a myriad of different people. I am an old soul and lived a lot of life in a short amount of time, so I connect naturally with older women. My fitness pursuits have taken me beyond the normal treadmill goers and weekly gym lifters. I find a lot of purpose and joy in giving to others, and so I attract people that need. I love giving to them, but at some point, I need to get some back.
And I don’t know where to go to get it. Except that maybe I do. I have a lot to offer myself – I know that’s not always ideal, but sometimes we really are all that we have. I go to my version of God, the Universe, and to the plethora of people surrounding me. I recognize that there doesn’t have to be one person to fill that void – it can be filled by many. Maybe that’s the point – if we place too much stock into one relationship, we can’t possibly be satiated. One person can’t possibly carry that much weight by themselves – it’s not fair. So other people are sent to us, seasonally or for lengths of time or maybe even forever, to do just that.
Maybe we are meant to have a number of people. Like with my fitness, there are less people that geek out over it like I do than do in my life. And that’s OK. Would I prefer there to be more? Absolutely! But it’s not a requirement. I have a few guys on a text chain that keep in touch weekly that run long ones together when we’re allowed, some girls out West that trained with me last summer and keep in touch, people on the internet that believe it or not, make me feel less isolated despite not even really knowing them. With my work and professional wants, I have my Insperity friends – a team that gets together on zoom that I really do like and appreciate. I adore my manager, and I have some peers that I can talk real shit with and could call with my stuff should I need or want to. We are all successful and have been and are stand-up personalities or else we wouldn’t be employed by our employer.
And I have Mike. And my family. And my dogs. This quarantine has brought to light a lot of Alison. I am seeing my still resistant default to vulnerability. I am seeing my guardedness and coldness produced by fear. I am seeing my default she-ra and fiercely independent self coming out, trying to be the Queen and control things and be the connector for others who are suffering more acutely. I am seeing how easy it is to slip back into “everything’s fine, we have so much to be grateful for” while simultaneously bottoming out emotionally every couple of days from lack of affection and human interaction. I’m certainly not dying, but I’m certainly swinging with the pendulum.
At least now it doesn’t swing so far to either side before it settles back down into the middle. And this, like it always does, helps it stop moving entirely.