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It always catches me off guard when people remark, with some type of astonishment, that they can’t believe I grew up in a predominantly female environment with little drama. My father was the only male in a house full of women. (Four daughters, a wife, and my aunt who moved in with us when she was about 13 until she went off to college and grad school). I thought it was a fairly normal environment to grow up in; but when people, usually girls would tell me: “Nuh-uhn, all those females?! I couldn’t take it!” Is when I begin to think that maybe it’s not as normal as I thought.
I realized that the reason why a house full of women was never a big deal for me was because of the mindset that my father instilled in us. He always told us that we were family and at the end of the day we needed to always be there for each other. Growing up with this in my mind helped me to deal with any sense of competition and jealousy and helped us each to develop a sense of camaraderie.
That eventually translated into my normal life. So, I don’t understand women who can’t have female friends. There are already too many things playing against women in this world for us to be fighting each other. If, for no other reason, we need to help build each other up instead of tearing each other down.
So that’s how live my life, but I had a bit of a moment where even I struggled, because this chick… was trying me.
A few months after my (ex)husband and I started dating, I came acquainted with this woman named Amanda.*
When I first met her, before he and I started dating, she was rude but I shrugged it off because life is too short to try to make someone like you. But, once he and I became more serious, she was just… so… extra. I’d never seen anything like it before in my life, readers, but I was committed to ignoring it.
After I became pregnant and married, I guess I just assumed that things would stop but they didn’t. In fact, she just continued to go even harder. She would text my guy about how much weight I was putting on (she didn’t know I was pregnant then), and asking what he even saw in me, and I was just irritated.
One night, while we were driving he told me that the reason why she was probably being so aggressive with the both of us was because he was “talking” to her before I came along.
All of a sudden, things clicked and my father’s words came back into my mind. I told my guy that I wanted to apologize to her because, as a woman, I’ve been in her shoes before. I’ve been with a guy once before where we were “talking.” I was thinking it was leading to something, and then all of a sudden I see him holding hands with his “girlfriend” without a single notice. I wanted to let her know that I empathized with her, and never wanted to rub our relationship in her face, and maybe we could have a clean slate. However, my guy begged me not to because, “it’s my role to talk to her. Don’t get in the middle of it.”
“Well, are you going to talk to her?”
“No.”
*Eye roll*
So the next day, when we interacted I saw her in a new light. Her behavior had a reason behind it, as I tried to give her an encouraging “We-Are-Women” smile, she not only continued to be the most irritating person I had to endure, she seemed to get worse. Almost like she was getting joy in any type of pain that she inflicted on me, my feelings, and my relationship.
After a while, the new light I saw her in not only dimmed, but turned into a haze of anger. I felt like: Not only am I trying to be sympathetic to this girl about her feelings, she’s going to continue to disregard mine?! I mean, all the time I felt guilty for her heartbreak. And any way that I might have made her question herself, and she just CONTINUES to act crazy! And if she sends one more text to him talking about my fat thighs…
But things changed when I had my first ultrasound and the little baby, who is now my adorable four year old, started kicking her legs brought everything back full circle for me.
At that moment, it wasn’t my duty to protect Amanda’s feelings and it wasn’t my duty to be indignant. It was my duty to protect my child because I knew that at the end of the day, whatever I felt, my child felt. It was up to me to make sure that her environment was one of peace, because she didn’t deserve to have her health compromised just because Mommy can’t keep her cool.
After a while Amanda’s and my paths stopped crossing. However, as I raise my daughter with the same knowledge that my parents raised me, I try to instill in her that self-preservation is the greatest strength she can hold.
But, even though a few years have passed I’ve recently reached out to Amanda to give her not just the apology that I wanted to then, but to add to it now. I wanted to tell her that not only did I understand her behavior but I no longer held it against her. I also wanted to let her know that in this world there seems to forces trying keep Black women at odds, especially along shade lines. I wanted to let her know that if she ever needed something that I was capable to help her with, I would. My father always said: “We have bigger things to worry about than each other,” and that’s an example that I’m trying to set for my daughter.
Amanda never responded.
