When I was in fifth grade, for about a year and a half, I lived in Orlando. Just random coincidence that I live in Florida now. But back then, I was a chubby, lonely, ESL student, that lived with her grandmother, great grandmother and uncle, who was once told by one of her classmates, “When you first walked in, I thought you were the ugliest thing I had ever seen! Ha ha ha!” Seriously, that happened. Her name was Sonya. I thought she was right, so I didn’t bother making friends and spent all that time watching Mexican telenovelas with my great grandmother. There was a tooth paste commercial that always tickled us.
The other day, I was watching the kid at her school playground and two of her classmates were playing with each other and not with her. All of the emotions that I felt as a ten year old came back instantly and it took everything I had not to intervene. I had to keep reminding myself of a few things: those two little girls are best friends because they are at school together all day, every day; my kid goes twice a week for three hours each day. Them not playing with her, has nothing to do with her and she has a bestie at school, he just wasn’t there that day. My kid is well liked and she even has a friend that gets upset if my kid plays with anybody else. But I still didn’t like it, I straight up hated it. I want to become friends with their parents just so she can be liked by those girls, but I know that’s crazy talk and we’re a little socially-saturated now.
Fortunately for me, my high-school experience was amazing, until my senior year (my mother force me to change schools to please my older sister, that also happened). I have great memories and made great life long friends. That experience made me a much better person. The husband calls it “Fantasy High”. In fact, my best friend from those days lives in Connecticut and we have kids the same age. When I was younger and single, striking a conversation with a strangers wasn’t something that crossed my mind, asking a guy out was unthinkable, and even my co-workers, I kept at arms length.
Then I met the husband, who’s by far the most outgoing person in the world. Every body likes him. Most women he meets, flirt with him (even if I’m there. I don’t mind it and it strokes his ego). I went to therapy (still go), stopped all communications with my family (cause you know) and took improv. Things are much better now.
As an adult, if and when I get rejected, it’s always a punch in the gut. After the kid was born, I tried to become mom friends with another mom I knew, and she said something about “we can go out with the husbands there”, after I asked her to go to lunch just with me. I guess I wasn’t her cup of tea, cause I actually want to raise my kid, not argue with the husband about who’s turn is it to pick her up from daycare. Nor do I want to accumulate things, or compare salaries. I haven’t seen her in a while. This was almost four years ago and it still bugged me enough that I asked the husband to stop hanging out with her husband. Cause again, everyone loves my husband, and if she’s going to reject me, than her husband doesn’t get to play with mine. I know it’s petty, childish, vindictive and all around horrible. But I don’t care. Neither did the husband cause he agreed and we do have a lot on our plates.
I have several close friends now. Yesterday I asked one of these close friends a question and she still hasn’t answered. I’m not going to get into it, but my anxiety is at an all time high. I haven’t stopped thinking about it. The thing is that I told her to think about it, to discuss it with her husband, and to take her time. But now I’m panicking cause I didn’t want to disrupt the friendship and I don’t want things to get awkward, and I should’ve kept my mouth shut! The husband thinks I’m over reacting, that it really isn’t that big of a deal and that not only will things be fine, but that I’m making to much of it.
Luckily for me, I don’t think she reads my blog, cause why would she? Not only do I talk about everything that’s here, this is not that interesting of a blog to begin with. But, here’s to hoping.Tags: best friends, Daughter, high school, Husband, rejection, school