Admit the Truth
Awareness is the beginning of change. If we don’t recognize what has happened or is happening in our lives, we can’t create the joy and peace that we want.
Mean Girls
We all have a way of protecting ourselves from the truth because we think it’s too painful to face. The fact is that the truth really does set you free. I experienced this two years ago when I went to my 50th high school reunion. Yes, you heard me right, 50th! When I got the invitation, I thought they had added wrong, but they hadn’t! One friend emailed me that she was really looking forward to talking with me. We had kept up over the years, getting together when we were in each other’s cities, but our communication had decreased over the last few years. I was pleased that she had contacted me and was looking forward to seeing her. As it turned out, we arrived at the reunion at about the same time and had a very brief hello. Then she abruptly turned her back to me so she could talk to the group of women who she was with. I didn’t think much of it until again, by chance, we wound up next to each other in the buffet line. So I tried again to strike up a conversation. I decided maybe she didn’t hear me, but the third time I said her name, I finally got the message. As long as she was with her group of girlfriends from their childhood club, she was not going to acknowledge me. In fact, it was only at the end of the evening after all of the other girls had left that she came over to find me and talk. Even then she allowed herself to be distracted by someone else and we left the evening without ever having a conversation. It was as if this clique of girls had never left high school. They were still treating everyone else as outsiders. They were the only ones who mattered and everyone else would have to wait.
50 Years Later
The next morning there was a brunch for those of us who had graduated elementary school together. The same group of girls saved seats for each other and took their place in the center of everything. I was amazed as I remembered how they had treated me as a young child and that adulthood didn’t seem to have change them. After brunch, I lingered to talk with some people who I hadn’t seen in decades. As I was about to leave, one of the girls asked if I wanted to join them for an afternoon walk in a beautiful wooded area. I hesitated, not being sure that I wanted to spend more time as an outsider. This woman was so friendly and insistent that I decide to say yes. I love that particular area and thought some time in nature would be nice. When the woman who was hosting the clique at her house, heard that I was joining them, she immediately turned to me and said with disdain, can you walk in those shoes? Since they were walking shoes, her question made no logical sense. Knowing what I do now about emotional and psychological abuse, I recognized immediately that she was doing her best to make sure I knew that she didn’t want me to come and that I should do the “right” thing and decline the invitation. At that point, however, I was really committed to continue this adventure so I could learn more about my childhood and how this group functioned.
Another woman had also been invited so we drove together along with the person who had invited both of us. Being marginalized by this group brought me back to a memory that I had totally buried. I was feeling comfortable enough with these two women that I shared my memory with them. At the age of 10, I had been excited to be invited to one of the girl’s houses after school, only to be put into a closet while they discussed if I was worthy of being voted into their club. I got to overhear all of the terrible things that made me unacceptable. Then I got to hear it
all over again when they opened the door and told me why they didn’t want me to be a member of their club. In fact, as I write this, I’m just now remembering that that was when I started getting painful headaches that resulted in numerous doctor visits and tests with no known cause being discovered. If I had seen Bernie Siegel, or a doctor like him, someone might have asked me what was going on in my life that was hurting me, but that didn’t happen.
When we all arrived at the hostess’ house, the woman who I had just shared my traumatic childhood memory with, asked me to tell the other women. I hesitated because I didn’t feel safe with them, but I plunged ahead anyway. They all denied that it had ever happened. One woman finally said, “Well if we did do that, I’m sorry.” I told her I appreciated that. Even more shocking to me was that one of them said “We were just congratulating ourselves on how nice we had been to everyone.” Later, as I had time to process this whole experience, I marveled at how they were able to protect themselves against their cruelty. By definition, the act of choosing who can be in your club and who cannot be, is cruel. You are telling everyone who doesn’t get voted in that they are not good enough to belong to your select group. And that they carried these same behaviors and attitudes into their adulthood was truly sad.
Silver Linings
So, what were my silver linings? I realized how much I had changed and grown. I discovered the source of some false beliefs about myself and was able to let go of them and the pain that I had carried because of peer abuse. I was able to recognize and let go of false friendships and be grateful for the people who really were and are my friends. I value the strength, wisdom and compassion that I’ve developed and I’m grateful for the learning and healing. It’s a blessing to pass that on by helping others recognize and heal from their pain.
