Why Must Women Hurt Each Other?

Back in fifth grade, one of my best friends, who meant the world to me, had a slumber party. I had introduced her to one of my other friends, who went to another school, earlier that year. For some reason, they had formed some sort of new alliance that seemed to exclude me. Later that evening, we decided (in stupid little girl fashion) to do "slam books". [I looked up a web definition in case you didn't know what one was: Traditionally a notebook passed from student to student in which questions are written and answered anonymously. Questions often focus on such issues as which girl is most popular, who is a dog, and which teacher is the worst dressed. Named "slam book" because when a teacher would come near, the book would be slammed shut and covered with homework, papers, or other appropriate camouflage]

However, these questions were more catered to those at the party, and they are meant to be cruel. I remember coming home from the party in tears because the answers given to me were just atrocious. Just. Plain. Mean. Especially from my so called friends. My mom says she remembers me saying that I tried to say something nice or neutral about everyone and that I couldn't believe the answers that I received in return. Although there must have been ten or twelve people at the party, you always know the people closest to you and their handwriting.

Fast forward to my first jobs and internships out of college. Young twenty something women working in business positions in manufacturing plants in the midwest. I'm trying to establish myself as a credible HR professional within a workforce of mostly men business professionals. Most of the women I work with are non-exempt administrative professionals who I am not "competing" with on any level.

I project an image of self confidence. Inside, I feel very vulnerable and scared. I hear all kinds of things from the men after work when we go out to dinner at night about how I got my job..."sleeping my way to the top" from some of these women. Gaffaw Gaffaw. Laugh Laugh. Project my aire of confidence. Pretend that these women at work are jealous and silly. When I get home I feel conflicted. Why do these women do this to me at work? Why must they bring me down when I want them to like me?

So, for many reasons in my life, I've depended on the friendship of men. But in some ways, that has its own conflicts. I really don't think that is appropriate anymore, either. I've yearned, especially since having children and being married, for more female friendships, because I feel that there's a connection there that men don't understand, and I know deep down there is a deepness there, that sadly, I don't know if I've ever gotten to experience in my adult life because I have been hurt by women so much in the past.

I think I have learned in the past few years to forgive. I have also realized that there is something missing in my life that will only be realized through forming female friendships. I know through reading a lot of these blogs that there are good souls out there. I have met many of them online, and several of them in person.

Now that I'm blogging, and "putting myself out there", I want to know that the women reading my blog are not going to "hurt" me. And by that, I mean, that most of the time, I don't write anything but happy posts. Most of us don't. I got the thinking, though, that staying at home is a tough job, but I think most of us are afraid to write about the rough spots. Oh, I do, but they are few and far between. That's why I was proud of Lisa this week for talking about her current issues. Or people like Elizabeth who always balance the good with the bad.

I guess I'm afraid I'll have an issue like this Sadness Post, and I'll receive nasty comments like she did. Granted, there is snarkiness in the post, but that is the writer's style. If you see that the general tone of the post is depression, can't you just leave it at that, and just empathize or choose not to comment?

I saw Mary Mia's post on Lisa's blog the other day in which she said it was nice that "she was getting honest"about what was going on in her life because she didn't know if she ever was ever going to measure up to all of the other moms out there. I agree. Some days are dreadfully hard for me. I hope that if I decide to post about what a terrible day I'm having or how sad I'm feeling, I won't be judged.