Sunday, May 27, 2007

My [So Called] Best Friend

My best friend is nothing like me. If opposites attract, then we're the proof. She believes in one true love for everyone and in sexual abstinence unless you find someone who could be that one true love. And I don't begrudge her that. She is, miraculously, the only person that I can accept even though she feels completely different than I do about relationships, sex and love. For me, she is that one person that I can confide everything in. She knows about [nearly] every lover I've ever had; every disturbing though that crosses my mind; every insecurity I keep buried inside.

In the past, she's taken my escapades with a grain of salt, given me good advice,
and moved on. Lately, though, it seems like she's judging the parts of my sexual life that differ from hers. She wants me to give up my entire life here and move to Milwaukee to be with the Sweet Boy because that's what someone did for her. She wants me to love and fuck one man because that's what she does. She wants my life to imitate hers because she isn't secure in the choices that she's made and she wants me to reaffirm to them with the flattery of imitation. But, of course, I won't do it. At least not to attempt to satisfy the void of her unending insecurity. I won't run my life based on someone else's standards, and as my best friend, she should know that.

Since she's my bestest friend ever, she knows me better than just about anyone. She knows every bizarre neuroses that I have and every strange sexual encounter I've come across. Unfortunately, like The S, she uses what she knows about me to hurt me. She calls me a whore in front of our friends and coworkers, she makes comments that indicate that I like the disturbing level of sexual attention I receive on the street, she jokes that I antagonize the men in my life to fuck me over. Sometimes, she's right on target. And other times, like tonight, she's way off base. On my birthday, with no available, single, straight men in sight, there was no call for it. And I had no patience for it. I am not a slut. I do not enjoy being harassed on the street. I do not fuck or fight every man I encounter. I'm so pissed that someone who has a boyfriend and wore see-through shirt and spent the whole night flirting with someone else's boyfriend would judge me for my sexuality. Maybe I've always had no patience for it, but tonight was the first time I was able to say it. Fuck her. And fuck everyone else who can't put aside their own shit to be kind to someone else.

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

I can understand exactly where you're coming from...as the gal in my group who is the most sexually 'out there' (not that I'm particularly promiscuous, I'm just more open about my sexuality I suppose)...but I would always use self-deprecating humour and laugh when someone made a comment or a joke about me in that way.

There is a line though, where you realise that it's not so much joking around as an accurate reflection of the judgment that exists under the humour, and it inevitably gets out of hand.

Basically I've learned to see that it's their shit, not mine. And friends have admitted to me that they're jealous that I'm not plagued with guilt and restriction when it comes to my body and sex. They might even be jealous that they don't have the guts to experience life in other ways too...they realise that they're living a more stifled existence than they want to admit to themselves. maybe the 'wholesome' relationship they're in isn't so fun and satisfying as they try to make it seem from the outside.

Bottom line is it's their shit baby.

Doesn't mean you still can't be best friends, she just needs to be told that shit don't wash with you anymore.

Good luck xx

1:44 AM  

Post a Comment

<< Home