Last weekend was my 50th high school reunion – falling during the week of the summer solstice and the full moon. And light, as you know, is so revealing! Often, it shows what needs repair, but it also shows what needs to be embraced, acknowledged, and celebrated!
How about friendships that have lasted over fifty years? And I mean friendships that are nonjudgmental, supportive, and fun! When I see my circle of high school friends and feel their love, I see myself in the best light. With a full heart, I am writing today about female friendships.
My mother was a master of nurturing friendships. She told me when I was young, to hold onto my friends, not to let them go for a guy. I could have both a partner and women friends! Besides raising eight children and spending time with my father, she also had many friends. so many I could not begin to count. I saw what these friends gave her; they made her world go around.
My mother and father, but mostly my Catholic mother, sent me to an all girl Catholic private high school. I say it was mostly my mother because my father was protestant but he not only went along, he also paid for it.
That’s where I met a circle of friends that surround me still today. I may not have my mother’s knack for nurturing relationships, but I do love these women and am grateful for having them in my life.
At the reunion, I saw myself as beautiful, successful, and fortunate – just as they tell me I am. The critical voice in my head was silenced; she could not be heard amidst the accolades and declarations of love coming from these women.
That is until I looked at the boards on display of our school newspaper and my cheeks turned red. In the Senior Polls, I saw my name listed as one of three students, including a close friend, voted the “most devilish”. Since we were at a Catholic school, I was not sure how I felt about it, at first. But then again, I am sure angelic was not what I was going for. I had already tried that as a young child and it was a lot of pressure!
To flesh out a picture of my high school self, I was the feature editor of the newspaper, which won a journalism award one year. A close friend jogged my memory of our trip to Bonaventure College in Olean to receive this award.
I also participated in the French and gymnastics clubs, so I was not so “devilish” that I rejected all things school-related. One of the things that I used to joke about with friends was our “devilish” deeds. It was more playful than harmful as I recall. We did for example, engage in a race to read all of the plays in the school library, often propping a play open in front of a text book in class.
Other things I remember are wearing construction boots with my uniform – navy skirt, knee sox, and white blouse; playing cards under the bathroom stalls; and sneaking out to go to Arby’s across the street.
Another memory is of making fun during a presentation on career day which I am sure was not good for both the school and the presenter. He was an older gentlemen, perhaps my current age, who gave a talk about newspaper journalism. One of the students happened to have a large rubber ear – the kind you might wear on Halloween. When she put it on, we cracked up and passed it around so we could each have a go at wearing it.
Not long after the presenter finished his talk which I cannot remember, although if I were to do it over again I would have studied journalism, an announcement came. The list of girls who participated in the “ear” antic, were called to the office. Somehow I escaped that first round.
But when they arrived in the principal’s office, she demanded they disclose anyone else involved. That’s when my name came up and I was called to the office, too. Frankly, I don’t remember what happened so my parents must not have made a big deal out of it.
That was an incident of going along with the group which I may not have initiated on my own, but the point of this essay, is that I did explore being naughty. As a young child, I was so focused on being good, that my friends have told me that they thought I was perfect. To be honest, perfection is what I was going for and I had an inflated sense of personal responsibility. Too much for a young child to bear.
Instead of pushing against the boundaries when I was young, I lived within them in a rigid and self-damning way. If I did not make everything right for everybody, I made myself wrong.
That is, until I was about fifteen, when I gave that up and embraced a devil-may-care ethos. I now know if goodness is a choice, we need to know the other side, too. And, irreverence goes hand-in-hand with reverence. The teen years are typically a time of rebellion as it was for me and it took about ten years to get it out of my system. At times, It caused me harm but in the process, it also taught me compassion, acceptance, and humility.
At about 25, I realized that some of the bad choices I was making were not working so I started making other choices. But I have to admit, I don’t think I integrated the good girl from my childhood and the rebellious teen/young adult into my mature self – until now. A part of me has rejected both the perfectionist, over-responsible little girl and the devilish teen-ager.
Being with friends I have known, a few of them nearly sixty years, provided the perspective I needed. I am loved and accepted. And I am who I am because of all of my experiences while growing up, evolving into the whole person I am. I can come out of hiding and reveal myself.
I feel awash in self-forgiveness, acceptance, and gratitude for my selfhood, and am missing my friends already! Good friends make me a better person. They are pure gold.
And I feel rich for having them in my life.
