Friday, September 18, 2009

Reunited and it feels so . . . (I'll let you know) . .

I've been reconnecting with some old high school friends. Aahhh, the world of Facebook. If you watched Titanic you'll remember that when Rose died at the end and goes back to the ship . . . everyone is there, elated to see her, waiting. Jack stands atop the grand staircase and extends his hand to her, welcoming her back with an embrace and a kiss. A glorious reunion. Well, I'm not expecting it to be like that for me. In fact, it's a little scary for me, returning to old friends and memories. I am the 'girl that got pregnant in school'. In fact I hold the prestigious title of being the first girl to attend high school (this particular high school anyway) through full term pregnancy, sitting cock-eyed in my desk with a protruding belly and leaky breasts during Government class.

Even though I was popular in school and heavy into sports, when I got pregnant and missed my Senior year, more or less, I was pretty much forgotten - no one's fault really, just happens. And not being too good at keeping in touch with people, and carrying around a lot of guilt inside, I guess I chose to stay forgotten. So if there is fault or blame to be assigned it would be mine, after all I'm the one 'who did it' and eventually slunk into obscurity yet at the same time hitting the world scene determined to become someone and not come back until I had accomplished this. Wrong. (Well, sort of wrong. Jesus is setting me straight on exactly what that looks like!)

I got married in high school as well, to my so-called highschool sweetheart. WHAT A MESS. Thank God that whole nightmare is behind me. Three sons later, and two marriages to the same man . . . . I finally learned this is never going to change.
I could say more about that but guess I won't bore you with the details of it all.

Even though I was popular in school and did well, and had a very bubbly personality at times, I also had a moody, broody, short-tempered and terribly insecure side. Not one of my friends, not one, ever knew what I went through at home. It wouldn't be until years and years later when my Dad was arrested for abusing some neighbor kids that one of my best high school friends questioned me about it (I grew up in a very small town). I was so humiliated, openly now, but I had always carried that humiliation and shame in my life secretly and it really, really messed me up. I guess that's why I clung for so long to a man that had no respect for me, love for me, nor could he even tell me the simplest of truths or stay home to be a faithful husband or loving father, yet I held on for dear life. In all fairness though, we were just a couple of kids making mistakes and dragging little innocent lives into our mess.

Anyway, who are we kidding, I was OBSESSED. Funny how we hang on to the very things that poison our lives and destroy us from the inside, like a bunch of termites eating away at our hearts.

The silver lining? With Jesus I've overcome that humiliation as well and the terrible insecurities it evoked and have been remarried for twenty two years now. :)

Anyway, back to high school friends. Missing your Senior year is a big deal. Big deal. I lost most of my friends, for lack of a better way to put it. Life went on, but without me. And when I attended a reunion about ten years ago I left feeling completely and utterly empty and alone. It didn't help that I had hair extensions to my butt, weighed a whoppping 100 lbs. with a (great?) can-tan and short shorts. What would make me think that they would embrace such an outward disply of my insecurities? Good grief, what an ass. They, of course, didn't; that's another lesson learned of the foolish things we do to impress people who usually run the other way from our stupid efforts to 'be somebody'. Plus I still had a desire for my x-husband to eat dirt, be jealous when he saw how great I looked and be sorry he cheated on me - repeatedly. He was foolish for letting me go and I wanted him to squirm in that realization. He was a not show and I was like a balloon with a slow, annoying leak as the night wore on.

It is true that when you divorce you divide things, and friends is one of them. Some of the kids that I was friends with in school didn't choose my side when the divorce came, they stayed 'loyal' to HIM. I was hurt, and felt alienated and viewed everything through a wounded lense, so I'm sure I'd see things differently now if looking through their eyes. In fact, looking back I was SOOOOO desperate, and so pathetic I wouldn't have wanted to be my friend either. I didn't add anything to people's lives, I subtracted. And that's the truth. I would not have liked me either. In fact, that's the whole crux of the problem - I hated me.

Anyway, now that I am trying to reconnect with some of my old pals I fear rejection. But I will not bow to that, I will reach out no matter. I desire to treat them with respect, and love and acceptance. No matter what. I'm a different person now, which is no guarantee that they will embrace me or want to include me in their lives this far down the line. But maybe, just maybe, they will. I'm willing to stick my neck out there and take a chance. Even though many of their lives - well all actually - seem to be going smoothly and seemlessly I know that not everything that glitters is gold. In other words, people only show us what they want us to see. Statistics alone tell us that behind some of those fronts are broken hearts, sick bodies, sick souls, lonliness . . . . casualties of war we call life. And if any one of them, no matter who, what or why, need a friend I am determined to be there, if possible, to mininster to their lives and share Jesus' love with them. Share the real ME with them . . . if given the chance.

So, either I believe my "friends speech" or I'm a hypocrit . . . . truth is, I've been preaching to myself more than these kids at camp, and when I read Tuesdays with Morrie it stirred my heart with a longing for friends. . . . . so wish me luck in building new relationships with old friends.

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