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I am a woman. And I don't have any female friends. I have always yearned for female friendship but have been incredibly unsuccessful in my search. I have watched so many other women take part in beautiful female companionship and, truth be told, I have become quite envious the last ten years of my 24. Even if I had just ONE female companion it'd be enough for me. But I am alone. And no amount of education I have can make the loneliness any easier.
Women are beautiful creatures; able to give life, sustain it, nurture, break down, grow, educate, and understand. We are life. But the life of a woman can be outright taxing and exhausting. Especially when it's done alone with not one soul around to understand.
My mother says, "You're just too strong, too beautiful, and too educated. You are a threat to every woman that doesn't really love themselves." Sure mom. That's the response I'm sure every mom gives. Here's the reality of that theory:
My skin is not perfect and its imperfections are on display for the world. I suck at doing my makeup. I usually finish and it looks like a 14-year-old just starting out. My wardrobe is that of a 44-year-old rather than a 24-year-old. My teeth could use a whitening; a SERIOUS whitening. I am out of shape. My butt is too little. I have boobs that shouldn't even be in a bra. I'm so broke I can't afford to even smile—even with a Master of Science degree. My pregnancy has left me with stretch marks enough to cover a small elephant. Hair grows in places it shouldn't. My weight fluctuates like Mercury and my wash-and-go hairstyles make me look like I am straight out of a 80's Jheri Curl commercial.
The man I felt comfortable with and spent countless hours baring my soul to has raped me. And my ex-fiancé left me for another woman. I've been in abusive relationships of various kinds and I've been betrayed by people I believed loved me. And as a child, I was mercilessly bullied. I have watched all of my friends marry and fall in love. I have played the third wheel to just about each and every one of their dates with a smile on my face. And I have watched my child's father leave without a second glance over his shoulder. I spend so many of my days pushing myself to love myself. And 85 percent of those days I fail.
I have considered suicide. I have attempted suicide—but was unsuccessful. Emotionally painful situations have attached themselves to the DNA of my personality like white blood cells attacking a virus. I have lost myself and then found myself again. I have laughed but spent double that time crying and smiling through it. I have suppressed years of anger for the sake of my family and friends because “no one likes a woman that doesn’t smile.”
I am human. I am flawed. But in spite of my shortcomings I am amazingly and unapologetically ALIVE. I can make people smile. I love hard. I change people's lives with my degree. I am kind. I am gentle. I am loving. I am a magical wardrobe of endless wonder and pain and human-like amazingness. I am my daughter’s hero even though I am being held together with scotch-tape and silly putty. I am not a jealous soul and I am accepting of any everything different from myself.
"I am no threat. I can't be mom. I am just simply, me. If only women could see me how I see me they'd never again feel threatened by me."
Have hope. Be kind. Be friendly.