Tag Archives: friends

When is it Your Place to Interfere?

20 Sep

There are a few things weighing on my mind at the moment (not that that is unusual). One of those things is the appropriate relationship status between two people in relation to when it is okay to intervene or express your opinion about something they are doing or saying.

I have a feeling that half of my readers just went never.

While yes, I understand your reasoning for thinking that…let’s be honest. There isn’t a single person on this planet who hasn’t given unsolicited advice to a friend. This brings me to my question…when is it even remotely okay to do that?

I have friends who feel that at no point is it okay to put your two cents in about a relationship unless cheating has been witnessed or there is the possibility of abuse. I have other friends who will give their opinion on your entire relationship at the drop of a hat. My philosophy tends to swing toward the former, and that is mostly because I really hate for people to give me their opinions on things they aren’t involved in.

There is also something to say about how close you are with a person to what you can tell them. The difference between an acquaintance and your best friend is monumental. The same can be said for a friend versus a significant other. I will put up with a lot more from a friend than I will a significant other.

So, taking that into consideration, when is it appropriate to say I think your girlfriend wants to fuck that guy or I wish you’d ditch the cigarettes. Do I really know that your girlfriend feels that way? No. Could it royally screw things up? Yes. Could it save some heartache later? Yes. Do I expect you to quit smoking cold turkey just because I don’t like it? No. Do I care about you and want you to be a living member of my life? Yes.

I guess it is also a little more complicated than just saying how you feel. It is also the prevalence of how often you express concern, and in what capacity.

When do you think you know someone well enough to express concern to them about their life? Is it okay to express concern, as long as you don’t intervene? When is it INAPPROPRIATE?

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2 Years, and a Night I’ll Never Forget

18 Sep

Just over 2 years ago, I spent an evening with 3 people. It was a night that changed my life, and while it was a tragic situation, it was also a night that brought the 4 of us together. Even if things have now exploded, crashed, and burned, likely because this event set everything in motion, leading us to where we are now…I have fond memories of each of us that evening.

I remember Jessica so kindly telling me that it was time to call the police, and walking me through it because I couldn’t even think of how to find the non-emergency number, and then telling me that her and Andy would of course stay with me until the cops arrived (yes, I actually asked).

I remember being outside, and Andy holding me when the officer announced that yes, my roommate was, in fact, dead.

I remember Tim suggesting Taco Bell at 1 in the morning because I was starving, and me trying my hardest not to toss my cookies at the thought of Taco Bell, then him grabbing my arm and turning me away when the carted out the body.

Before, we made light of it. Andy bought me a dead guy ale, and everyone thought I was crazy because these things don’t happen.

After, I remember so vividly sitting cross-legged on Tim’s couch being so hungry, and declining any offering of food he could throw at me, until he got to pancakes. And then, at 4 am, he went to the store to get milk to make this girl some pancakes.

And then the 4 of us sat there and ate pancakes, trying to absorb and digest what just happened.

It was a night that actually showed me that my friends did care about me. Moments like that are few and far between, and regardless of the tragedy that caused it, I look back fondly on how supportive they were.

Do you have a moment in which you and others were brought together, and you felt so deeply cared for?

The One Time Someone Stood Up for Me

7 Sep

I guess I can only say as much as I know, so if there was ever a time when someone stood up for me when I wasn’t there, I can’t really say (that isn’t usually something you tell a person). I can only think of one time in my 26 years that someone has stood up for me when I was present, though. I should be thankful for that, and I suppose I am, because if you always require someone else to fight for you, you’re not doing a very good job standing up for yourself.

That one time was when I was 16. It happened on the football field, of all places, and it happened between two fellows who just so happened to have the same name. I was football manager at the time, and being wet was apparently a requirement for the job. Leaking water bottles, leaking Gatorade jugs, melting ice, and the frequent enough squirt from a bottle (intentional or otherwise). Most of the season was hot, so it was a fortunate side effect.

This particular story takes place on a very warm end-of-summer day. It was more than likely August, and while it was still the beginning of the school year, we all knew each other anyway. That was the side effect of small town living.

The details are a little foggy, as I can’t remember if it was the beginning or end of practice (end, perhaps?) and how physical the altercation was between these two football players I can’t say for sure.

I do remember that I was wearing a red ribbed tank with a black flame on the left side and jeans. Always jeans. And I remember standing on the east side of the field, near the bleachers. More than likely, there was a water break that started it. More than likely I was collecting bottles. More than likely, this guy stuck around a little longer than the rest not for an “extra sip” but because he had a major crush on me (the likes of which he had professed several times).

He turned to me, made some off-handed now-forgotten comment, and poured the entire contents of the water bottle he was holding down my shirt. Things like this happen to me more than I should probably willingly admit, but this time was different. This time, another play came over. This time he yelled at the guy who had just poured water all over me. He told him never to do it again. I think there was some pointing, and I think he very much got in the others face. I don’t think he grabbed his shirt, but the possibility exists, I suppose.

The sheer force of his words defending me and standing up for me was impressive. The look of fear on this other guys face was probably even more impressive.

And that was the one time someone actually stood up for me. While I don’t suppose I would be much different had it not happened, but I am oh so thankful to that man for doing that. It was one of those moments that fuels your faith in humanity, however minute, and regardless of how much you know about things like the bystander effect.

Have you ever stood up for someone? Have you ever been stood up for? 

 

Truth Speak: Dorm Life, Why I Can’t Make Friends

12 May

All of the encounters we have in our day to day lives shape us into who we are. That doesn’t change as we get older; we just have more encounters under our belt.

The memory I’m about to share with you is actually a really painful memory, and unless I’ve blogged about it before (and forgotten) it isn’t something I share with many people.

I’ll start with saying that it hasn’t ever been easy for me to make friends, but it used to be easier. The biggest thing that usually stopped me was reservation and being introverted, which are pretty normal things. That also means I really value what friends I have, and I will go to the ends of the earth for my friends. I like to give as much as I can, but it is important for so many reasons – you send out positive vibes into the universe, and you’re not only happier, but you’re bound to get good back! Now, my story…

Five years ago, I was a sophomore in college living in the dorms. Things went really well when I first moved in. I met people and everyone seemed really cool and really nice. I have so many pictures from that year. I had a corner room, and we did all kinds of fun stuff in there, as I didn’t have a roommate. Life was good. It just so happens that I was living next to some really cute, really nice guys, which is the center of what happened.

I was interested in one of them, Rob. He was really nice, had a great smile, and was interested in things that I hadn’t been exposed to (which I find totally fascinating). Being the passive person I am, I was perfectly fine being friends. I knew I wasn’t going to ask him to date me, or make a move, or any such thing.

One day, we were talking, and he mentioned that he was super stressed and tired because he had so much to do for school that week. I decided to write him an encouraging note, because in college, we could all use some encouragement. I got out a purple marker and a piece of paper and wrote a simple note that said something along the lines of good luck with all your tests this week! I know you’ll do great! I stuck it under his door so he would see it before leaving for class, and went on my way.

The next day came and went, and no mention of the note. At one point, I saw it lying on the floor still, and couldn’t help but wonder why he hadn’t said anything. My question was answered by his neighbor on the other side, Marlena. I don’t remember why we were talking, or if there was a reason she brought it up, but she decided to tell me that I “needed to let up” because Rob said I was “starting to creep”.

At the time, it was hurtful, but nothing compared to how it feels now when I think back on it. I ended up grabbing the note when no one was looking, and ripping it up to throw in the trash.

The worst part? I never got to defend myself. Any attempt at the time was feeble at best, and I tried just to shake it off and forget about it. Little did I realize that 5 years later, I would hold back from attempting to make friends because asking someone to hang out made me feel like a predator. That’s real life, real time.

But I want them to know. I want them to know why, and how hurtful their words were.

Yes, I liked Rob. But I thought we were good enough friends that I could show him a nice gesture. That I could give him some encouragement in a rough time. I failed all but one of my classes that semester. I needed encouragement, and if I needed it, I knew others did, too. I wasn’t the first, though. Another girl on our floor had written at least a couple notes before, and taped them to his door. Was that my mistake? That I wanted to make sure he saw it before he went to class? I can’t figure out what made it creepy when I did it, but perfectly okay that she did. I had even heard him thank her for the nice note before, so when he didn’t even acknowledge that I reach out just made me feel terrible. I don’t even know why Marlena decided to tell me what she did, either. She wasn’t the nicest girl, but I can’t imagine someone wanting to make me feel that way when I hadn’t done anything to her. It doesn’t make sense that she would have said that to benefit me, though.

I hate that this has effected me as much as it has. I asked a coworker if she wanted to share a pizza with me after work and it caused me so much anxiety. I’m constantly worried that by reaching out to people to be friends, that they are going to label me the same. I don’t know how to get over this. I try to push myself out of my comfort zone, but even when I do hang out with these people, I still get anxiety when I think about continuing trying to be friends.

I really want this to reach these guys, one way or another. It probably won’t, but I think they deserve to know how their words affect others. I think deserve to defend myself. I think anyone could benefit from reading my story, too, because we tend to talk about others in less-than-positive ways. That can really impact someone, so spread the word.

Share so maybe it will reach these guys. Share so I can defend myself. Share so others might think twice about what they say when they talk about others. Any advice? I’m open.

The Art of Forgiveness

1 Mar

Anyone who says forgiveness is anything less than an art has never had to forgive someone of something monumental.

Forgiveness. It comes in many forms, and sometimes comes with “forgetting”, though I don’t know if that part is every truly enacted. Acceptance is probably better to do than forget, because if you accept you no longer have to feel the pain or frustration or whatever emotion is tied to the forgiveness.

Sometimes, we will forgive someone almost instantly. Say someone accidentally trips me, or smashes my hand in something…acceptance is almost immediate, and forgiveness isn’t even questioned.

Then, you find yourself in a situation similar to myself.

A very long, long time ago I had a friend, who I cut out of my life. It was partially intentional, and partially just the course of life. There weren’t any single events that caused my decision to do this, but rather a series of events that showed me how unhealthy our relationship was. No matter how many times I would forgive her, I could never fully accept the state of things. Thus, they kept piling on one another, as did the emotions tied to these events.

It was almost sudden, how our friendship ended. And I know that I made the right choice, because the time following were wonderful and amazing, and I didn’t have any of that toxicity in my life.

But now, older as I find myself, acceptance has brightened my past. I no longer feel the emotions that were once tied to all the things I kept forgiving. When and how that happened, I am unsure. What I am sure of, is that while I can look back to that point in my life and no longer feel pain, frustration, and guilt, I can still look back and feel the pleasure of when times were good. We shared some really good moments, and I know that I owe part of who I am to this former friend.

With this almost rose-colored view of our friendship comes a subtle desire to re-connect. I don’t know if she would be interested, and I don’t know how similar we are to our former, high school selves. Without her in my life, I do lack the ability to reminisce on what happened to be so many nights with just the two of us. But opening that door is scary, too. Obviously, there was a problem with our relationship, as I never forget. It’s hard to say if that problem would still exist and if having her back in my life would be healthy.

I just want to open the door slightly, and peek inside, but I don’t know if there is a way to do that. Something tells me this is either all or nothing.

Do you say “forgive and forget” or another variation? If you’ve cut someone out of your life, do you ever let them back in? Why? What do you think of the saying “if there was a problem then, there will be a problem now”?

An Open Letter to Any Guy That’s Sent Me A Dick Pic (NSFW, Obviously)

18 Feb

Ever. Or wanted to send me a dick pic. Or has sent any other woman an unsolicited picture of your genitalia. To any guy that has whipped out his dong in front of me. And any dude who thought it was okay to tell me any number of reasons why I needed his penis in or around my body. 

 

Dear member of the male sex,

One could only hope to call you a gentleman, because for the aforementioned reasons I guarantee that you are not, in fact, a gentleman.

My only fault in this weird, I-say-hi-and-you-respond-by-showing-me-your-wiener relationship was trying to create an atmosphere that you could express yourself, without fear of judgment. Without fear of condemnation or exile.

I was wrong. I know that now.

You could have sent me a tasteful picture of your tattoo, or a nice selfie of you and your dog (or cat *swoon*), or even a mirror-picture of you lifting up your shirt in  your bathroom. Any of those would have gotten me off more quickly than a picture of that dangly thing between your legs. And let me just say, no woman on earth needs a picture of a limp dick. Ever. That’s not even last on the list of things we want a surprise picture of. It didn’t even make the list, actually.

I’ll also say that the phrase “What’s up?”, however tempting, is not an invitation for you to immediately send a picture of your boner to me.  Nor is “Whew. I thought that was going to be a dick pic”.

As I admit fault to you, I will acknowledge that I may have also been lying to myself. I should have been the judgmental bitch God created me as, so I’ll say this: Yes, your fantasies are weird. No, I don’t like it. Your dong isn’t any more exciting than any other dudes dong. If I wanted to touch it, this wouldn’t be a text conversation. No, your penis is not the biggest penis I’ve ever seen. Yes, it could be the smallest.  Your massive untamed bush isn’t helping anything. To the boyfriends – I don’t appreciate the sentiment. 

And my ass? It is perfectly able to be handled by folks other than long, strong, black men. Free tip: opening doors, complimenting me, saying please and thank you, and taking a genuine interest in my hobbies is a great way to handle this ass (note: I said nothing about length, strength, or monochromatism, however, being a man is a requirement for handling this ass).

P.S. I have retained copies of every cock-ridden text I’ve ever received, just in case you piss me off at some point in the future.

Forever yours,
Not-interested-in-your-disembodied-dong

Something Shared

27 Jan

“There are some things you can’t share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them”

 

That’s a quote from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s [Alchemist’s] Stone, and I find that it holds a great deal of truth.

While twelve-foot mountain trolls aren’t common over here in the states,  I think that another such thing is unrequited love unexpressed feelings when two people have shared feelings, but for whatever reason, they never developed into an actual, serious, full-time relationship.

It’s almost as if there is a place in each of your hearts, made especially for them, even though you have both long-acknowledged that nothing will ever blossom between you. And you both agree that it’s okay.

I have a friend like that. We both liked each other for a really long time (at least it felt really long), muddled by relationships and distance and life. We talked about it and while we weren’t quite on the same page at the same time, I think we both knew deep down that it couldn’t work. Eventually, we accepted that there is something shared between us that is special, but that we weren’t meant to be together, and we would never be together.

I don’t think this something is dangerous, or threatening. Like the quote said, there are some things you can’t share without liking each other, and I think the shared thing is a knowledge that it won’t work, no matter how crazy you are about each other, and the ‘liking each other’ part is the bond…the connection…you form from sharing that something.

It’s almost as if no matter how old you grow or how far you grow apart, you still have that bond.

Do you have any folks you feel this way about?