Okay, I have to say this: the last two weeks have been utterly weird for me. I've opened up to the people around me like never before in my life. At work. In my circle of friends. Here, too, online. Again, with very few exceptions, it's the women in my life who are turning out to be incredibly loving and supportive.
First, a disclaimer: it's not the case that I think only women can be loving and supportive. I know men can, too. But I haven't really met any of these men in my own life. Although I've opened myself up to some male friends and colleagues, they've shied away from me as though I were a leper. The one exception, so far, is my boss. He wants to talk to me next week; he wants to know what he can do to help. He doesn't want to lose me, neither as an employee nor as a friend.
I don't want this to turn into a male-bashing or man-dissing thread. That's not my intention. Some of my best friends are, well, men ("not that there's anything wrong with that!"
). My intention is this: I want to praise the women in my life. And, just as I don't lump all men I know into a single category, neither do I lump all women I know into a single category. No "hooker with a heart of gold," here, nor any other myriad stereotypes that attach themselves to womanhood. Just ordinary human beings, with ordinary issues, leading ordinary lives, but whose hearts and souls and minds are--to a man like myself (walled in and hurting)--quite extraordinary.The women I've come to know, to appreciate, to love, to look up to, are so often the reason behind the goodness and tenderness I can see in my own soul that I'm not sure I could manage to function at all, were they absent from my life.
Marie, my lifelong friend, I've known you for 25 years, now. You were my first "serious" girlfriend, my very first long-term companion. Though we parted, we continue to watch over each other, to watch each other continue to grow. We've been anchors in each other's lives when our days raged like an ocean. Today, we spent the afternoon shopping together, chatting over lunch... about men, women, relationships, life, love, loss, and the freedom to be... we then caught a movie that made us both cry. Later, we talked again. I don't know what I would do without you. I love you and I'm proud to call you my friend.
Marian, if ever I wanted to lose myself and then find myself in someone else, it was in you. Never, in my life, have I ever felt the pain of distance, of miles separating two souls--though our bodies be mere inches apart--as I did with you. You nearly drove me mad. You're right; I couldn't "see" you, then... but I can "see" you now. And what I see is more beautiful than ever. When I told you last night that I would never fear what you thought of me or how you judged me, just because you're my "other me," I never expected these words to show up on the screen: "You're my 'other me,' too." Who knew, indeed? Well, I knew. I love you and I'm proud to call you my friend.
Mom, I don't call you often enough, I know (and, no, I still don't wear warm enough clothing in winter). We've had some rocky times, you and I. But so much of who I am is a result of who you, yourself, are. I don't think I'll ever be able to make you understand or see that this is a good thing. Dad may have given me a thirst for knowledge and for whatever wisdom I can get for myself but you, you gave me a lust for life and for things that live and breathe, a love of "mere" being, that courses through me still and always, and that will never be extinguished. How can I ever thank you enough? I love you and I'm proud to call you my friend as well as my mother.
Patricia, Carole, Karine, Genevieve, Andrea, Sue: I've long worked alongside you even though, as you're all recently discovering, you barely knew me (and, by the way, I should point out to those of you who are really into the boss's hot tub that that's not the same thing as "knowing me bare"
). That not a single one of you ran away, screaming into the night, when I bared my soul to you, is the least of the reasons why you'll always find a room in my heart reserved especially for you. Patricia, I know how much you and technology don't sit well together; when I got an e-mail from you last night, I was stunned. What you wrote to me--just a few simple lines, really--made me bawl my eyes out. To the remaining quintet: I promise I will let you all take me out to Mado's Cabaret "all dolled up"... as soon as I can get my hands on the right outfit. To each and every one of you: I love you and I'm proud to call you my friends.Sharon, Love, Terri, Amber, Kay, Curly, Lefty: I don't know any single one of you well enough to arrogate for myself any unseemly familiarity with your hearts and minds, but I do know this: who I am was changed because of who you are, to that extent that I do know who you are, anyway. Your passage through the rivers of my own soul have left a mark. A good mark. Your posts, PM's, e-mails, and chats have always borne witness to your tolerance, compassion, love, and understanding. To each and every single one of you: I love you and I'm proud to call you my friends.
The women I know in my life are like this: they come in all shapes, sizes, characters, personalities, and demeanors; they each have their peculiar needs, wants, loves, wishes, desires, strengths, flaws, beauties, and dark sides; they are like fire, air, earth, and water; and, especially, this: they make this big ol' world feel like a place where it's always good to be connected.
All of you have this in common, that you've managed to make me feel (and see and understand, in the deeper reaches of my own being) that it's okay for me to be who I am. I only hope that I've been able to give you all back some of that amazing feeling in return.
Now, about the men in my life, well, I'm not sure there's anything I can say, really. The exception is the "men" I've met, here, on the forum. I use the quotation marks purposefully because, to my mind, many of you (and you know who you are) have done more to help me get rid of the notion that men cannot be sensitive, loving, or compassionate, than ever any man in my "real" life ever did. Even if only for this fact, I love you all and I'm proud to call you my friends.
Okay, I'm done now. I'm going to bed. But oh! what dreams I'll dream tonight!
Love,
CJ
It felt good to let others know how I feel.