I have never been good with girls.
When I was in first grade, at St. Catherine’s all-girls school, I had an imaginary friend named Anne Sidney Davenport. She was good at tennis and ballet and had long wavy blond pigtails like a cocker spaniel, i.e. she was perfect. I didn’t play with her that much, but sometimes when I was lonely I would remember her and we’d have a game of mouse fairies or whales or whatever I felt like playing, and I’d use her as an excuse for an extra cookie. Anne Sidney was not just my imaginary friend — she was also an actual girl in my actual class. But she was only my friend imaginarily. I knew kids were supposed to have imaginary friends, so I figured, why not pick one I know has good hair?
Plus it made me feel better about being a little too fat and loud, and lonely at lunch. My teachers would sigh and shake their heads as they tried to correct my social weirdness, explaining things like even though people laugh when I quote jokes or put things up my nose, it doesn’t make them want to be friends with me. Year after year they seemed to think “Why can’t Eliza get it?” I was always thinking “I know! Why don’t I get it? What is wrong with me??”
Years later, I find that I still haven’t figured out how to be friends with girls. I don’t like it, or respect it — when I hear women describe themselves as “a guys’ girl” or say things like “I just get along better with guys” or worse,“girls are such bitches,” I call them Uncle Toms in my head. But it’s not that I don’t like other girls — I know there are lots of very smart, funny, awesome, great girls out there, and I’m crazy about them and want to be friends with them. So a few years ago I decided to put a lot of effort into cultivating female friends.
I did it all wrong though, like I got directions from a Time Life guide to soldering and building female friendships. I started a bunch of all-girl projects — a website, writing/discussion groups, a band, a bunch of shows — I became Miss LadyOrganizer. I agressively complimented, I listened to problems and tried — triiiiied — not to just fix them (which proved all but impossible for me.) I tried to be less repulsed by casual touching and friendly terms of endearment like “sweetie“and “honey”. I was thrilled to be included in incoherent drunken ramblings about ex-boyfriends — just like in the movies! I strived to be a glowing ray of sunshine instead of a winning robot of comedy and accuracy. But I was still too aggressive, I still accidentally offended them and just couldn’t get it right. I lost nights of sleep over wondering what I was doing wrong when I continued to get the mysterious snubs, evil eyes, and was never counted as “one of the girls.”
And you know what it is? I’m prettier than all of them. No, I kid. I don’t know what it is though, and I’ve given up.
I do have female friends. I don’t need giant Sex In The City swarms of girlfriends — in fact that would make me uncomfortable. Many of these friendships are pretty old now, and time has added a layer of trust that overcomes my deficiency in girlspeak. I love my female friends, and I don’t want them to feel hurt by what I’ve written here, so let me say clearly: Not you, those other bitches.
And I like being friends with guys. Guys DO like you when you can tell jokes and shove things up your nose. And they DON’T say things like “Why can’t you be more vulnerable?” So yes, when I go to a wedding, I generally sit on the groom’s side and I am about 1 million times more comfortable with a high five than with a “good cry”.
I’m not fat anymore, but I am still sometimes too loud. My imaginary friend, Anne Sidney, grew up into a real ballerina — a pretty amazing one. It looks so beautiful from the outside, but it’s hard work to be that graceful and perfect. They train like athletes and I’ve heard that up close their feet are mangled and bleeding. It’s not easy being a girl.
I LURVES you tooo!
The many years of martinis and mani/pedis and frank talk about S-E-X over brunches is really what has made us so close.
Although, I have more frequently had “Why can’t you be more vulnerable?” asked from dudes more often then ladies. but WTF — who says that to anyone anyways?!
I know for a fact that you DO love a good cry. How many times did we watch Beaches and weep till the snot was flowing from our noses as girls? Or was I the only one crying?
My god, I loved this!!
It took me back to being a teenager and trying to figure out which was the best way to cultivate friendship with guys. I realised in the end that mainly I had to be as crude as possible and as often as possible, which often meant things like taking on dares to drink your own ‘wee wee’ when out for a drink with the boys, which should be re-classified as getting drunk enough until you had the courage to walk up to a girl and try and have a conversation with her.
By then of course this often involved lots of dribbling, slurring and standing far too close until you realised you were talking to the back of the head, with the girl desperately chatting away to anyone close in the hope that you would disappear or turn back into a frog.
I was actually, just as you mentioned, deliciously handsome as a young man, which is why I believe I had trouble getting the exact pitch for selling myself to other boys as a future friend. I was either going to be competition for other boys (boys have an aversion to getting beat, especially with girls) or I was a candidate for ‘playing for the other side’. Whatever, I was a shy, hopelessly romantic and sensitive boy. I really did not want to drink my own ‘wee wee’!
In the end I did meet some pretty girls but was saddened to find that so many lived their lives according to “Cosmopoliton Magazine”. It was their bible!
I just wanted someone to kiss, hold my hand, let me sing “I Only Have Eyes For You” to, to dance with like Fred and Ginger and to be funny with, like Woody Allen and Annie Hall!
Being a teenager really does suck at times !!
Elisabeth — you read my blog! Neat! But I have to disagree. I wasn’t into Beaches — maybe that was Erika or Catherine? I was more of a Dirty Dancing/Anything-With-Michael-J-Fox girl. Also, your mom makes great sandwiches.
I will second that. Elisabeth’s mom’s sandwiches rule!
I had an imaginary friend named Christine. I made her up when my mom became concerned that all my friends were boys. I whittled Peter Pan ankle knives out of wood and climbed trees with Christine, she was adventurous.
My mom got really mad when she found out that Christine was not real. Side note: Christine’s mom made really good imaginary sandwiches.
Eliza, I’m such a fan of your writing. So, so funny and great.
What’s interesting is that if anyone asked, and no one has but I’m sure someone will soon, I would have said you were someone who had no trouble with female friendships. All of that web development, banding and such paid off! At least for your image.
that last paragraph is awesome. So much goodness packed into a few sentences. big ups to concise, powerful writing.
Mark Slee — your teenage friends made up odd slang phrases. So many questions packed into one sentence.
I like you, but I’m fat and loud, so I hope that counts.
Same problem, different reasons. It bothers me but I’ve never made a real concerted effort to fix it. Hmm. Something to ponder in the new year.
This entry really struck me. Always felt a bit of a misfit. Too loud and I’m obnoxious(and/or bitch). Too quiet and I’m a snob. Not gender specific, but the older I get, the more comfortable I feel being at home when not performing.
i like this entry a lot.
i had a hard time being friends with guys for a long time. i resented straight ones and competed with gay ones.
in the end it must have been self-hatred speaking through my behavior patterns — the more layers of self-loathing i manage to slough off makes way for me to love the dudes in my life. it still rears its head from time to time, but i have a better handle on it, and i’m able to recognize my hand in propagating it.
isn’t that the best we can do for ourselves, to use our lifetimes as a gentle excercise in self– mastery? i think so. i think you were right to try.
those other bitches can go be those other bitches. you’re a funny person, and a hell of a writer. and like you said, you really gave it a shot.
I was having a “what is wrong with me” crisis until I read this.
I am so glad there are many of us out there and that we won’t get to be friends because we are all “boy’s girls” but still, when one of us blogs about it it makes me feel like lees of a mean person.
Thanks
I have this same problem, but I have a cop out. I’m bisexual, and this is somehow acceptable because I still like men so it’s just adorable instead of something worth consideration. Whenever I feel like I don’t know what to say to a girl, especially with female specific things, I just hit on them as jokingly as possible and BAM, situation avoided.
*Chick Friend*: Oh my god, my ex is here at the movie and he’s with another girl! We only broke up last week! *crying* D, I’m so sad!
*Me, in my brain*: You’re sleeping with someone else. I don’t understand the issue. I am confused. Oh god, you are crying at me.
*Me, out loud*: You’re too hot to worry about that. Have I told you how great your tits look in that shirt?
*Chick Friend*: Haha, thanks. You’re silly. *sigh* Let’s go drink after this, I think I can get through it. Thanks for cheering me up.
I don’t know, it just works. *Throws hands up*