Hallmark Moments

My Tribe

I am a gypsy, moving to unfamiliar places every few years. For some, this might be daunting, but to me, it is exhilarating as I welcome and thrive in the unknown. It helps that the universe always steers and places me in the path of the most incredible women. What starts as a casual hello often evolves into a ‘lifer’ friendship, sharing in all the delicious messiness of life. I love my chosen family and feel a deep obligation to nurture and protect my peeps.

No doubt, I gravitate towards funny, independent, opinionated, and compassionate chicks. A select handful, my tribe, have been adequately vetted and have top-secret, high-level clearance to all things ‘Mic’. Our social contract is simple, to secure and protect our friendship vault.

During a catch-up session this week, I discovered one of my soul sisters is off-center. Life has knocked her off balance. As much as she tries (she gives it all), the immensity of life is too much to sustain. Her load is heavy; she’s frustrated, disappointed, and discouraged. 

Even though her problems are a hundred percent legit, seeing her weave a web of negativity is troublesome. This is not her jam; she’s more like a bad-ass, strong, handles shit all day, every day kind of gal. But my girl is exhausted. 

Hallmark Moment

I confess I am an eternal optimist; I generally look at the bright side of life and am anchored to my joy. I may as well walk around with rose-colored glasses. And as much as my energy is appreciated, it is incredibly annoying to my circle on occasion. I get it; people going through a rough patch aren’t interested in my uplifting jargon; frankly, it’s maddening.   

That is the case with my beautiful friend. My attempts to offer a different lens to look through failed miserably. She hurled the lens back at my face. 

‘Save the Hallmark moment, Mic! I am not in the mood to take advice from someone who can’t fully appreciate my stress. Stop with the encouraging words. You don’t know what I am going through and what I have to deal with every day. I am not in the headspace to hear it. It’s not helpful. ‘

Pause, what to do with my bruised ego? Oh, right, my ego is not my amigo, but my friend is — I got this and asked, ‘what do you need from me?’ As I listen to her words, I hear — space, to be, family, cocoon, retreat, mental break.

So, this is where we are. I am giving a ride or die friend the space to be. 

Reflect- Until you have walked in my shoes

Not doing is hard for me, but my want to help cannot negate her needs. She is not interested in my fairy dust (positivity). She is having an experience and needs to feel all the emotions boiling over from this moment. She will crawl in bed, wrap herself in a blanket of anger and sadness, and fall asleep with the heaviness of her tears. 

I know she is right; my compassion is not enough to fully grasp the current shit show playing out in her life.

I think of all my tribe members…

I cannot even begin to feel the heartbreak my sister experiences after losing her child—the pit in her stomach, the hole in her heart.

How can I possibly comprehend the unexpected death of a spouse, be a widow with young children, and rebuild yet never fully heal

To end a marriage and break up a family.

To live in constant fear as a loved one struggles with anxiety and depression.

So yeah, my Hallmark card moments don’t always make the cut. And as much as I want everyone to GET her JOY, it can’t be on my timetable. I can nudge, but some are going to need a minute. And sometimes, living in the messy is what is required.

Redirect- My Wants

I am learning that listening with care and grace is as crucial as purposeful sharing.

Even though I want my girlfriend to realize she is mourning the loss of how things used to be, I desperately want her to fight for what is to come and what she is becoming.

And even though I know my friend did not choose these scars, I want her to realize she does get to choose her response.

But my wants are not important. It is easy to punch life in the face when one is detached from the problem. It is harder to fight back when swimming in a sea of emotional ‘feels.’ 

I remain eternally hopeful that the fog will lift in her world. In the meantime, I choose to keep my lighthouse on. I straighten my rose-colored glasses, grab my bag of joy, and walk beside her, not in her shoes but holding her hand.

Keep illuminating,