A "Good" Divorce?
Hi--
OK, I was planning to write something really fun today, but I got a question from a reader that I really want to address here in the blog. Erin from somewhere in America (I suppose ... the foreign editions aren't out yet!) asked me if I ever had to "break up" with a friend during my FFG journey. And I don't think she's the only one wondering--there have been many posts on my guestbook from people whose family, friends, husbands who ... to say it nicely ... are less than supportive of their efforts to short-circuit the fat girl thinking in their heads and work towards a healthier image of themselves and their bodies.
Well, let me tell you a story.
When I was well on my way in my journey--I was a dedicated runner, a Weight Watchers devotee, etc.--I became best buds with a woman I'll call TK. (You know I believe in complete honesty, but I just can't see anything good coming of my naming names here ...) We were always hanging out ... it was one of those friendships where you rarely said my name without saying hers, and vice-versa. TK was funny, creative, smart, and naturally thin, athletic, blonde (but I liked her anyway--kidding!). And she had NO IDEA how it felt to be a fat girl. That is not to say that she never worried about her weight; I know she had gotten a bit heavy in college (before I knew her), and still had a 5-pound or so swing. But as you and I know, being a fat girl or Former Fat Girl isn't about how heavy you are or used to be. I know for a fact that there are women out there who have 20, 30, 40, 70 ... probably even more ... excess pounds on them who aren't fat girls--who aren't hiding behind their weight, who aren't sacrificing their own well-being taking care of everyone else's stuff, who aren't all-or-nothing thinkers who see every excess pound as a failure, and give up trying at all as a result.
TK was the kind of person who could eat a bag of cookies for dinner, and feel no shame in it. She'd just make up for it by eating less the next day. I could NEVER do that. I couldn't just shake it off and get back in the game, like a quarterback who was sacked in a big game. I'd lay there, wallowing in my pain, in my SHAME. And then I'd want to just quit--to give up on myself, my diet, my exercise plan, whatever, because IF YOU CAN'T BE PERFECT, THEN WHY TRY TO BE ANYTHING? My Former Fat Girl journey was all about working through that, about finding forgiveness, about letting go of perfection (in both behavior AND body!).
And let me tell you--friends, to me, were EVERYTHING. I was a giver, you understand, I was all about making people like me. I worked hard at being the PERFECT FRIEND, and wore that badge proudly.
But TK and I started having issues over food. We'd go out for dinner, and I'd order my salad with dressing on the side--no cheese, no croutons, and God forbid, no bacon!--or my baked potato with no butter (just salsa), or my naked grilled chicken breast. I was super-strict about my diet back then, because I wasn't yet a Former Fat Girl. I still didn't trust myself not to blow up if I had a shred of cheese, didn't trust that just a taste of something decadent wouldn't trigger a full-on binge. TK, in the meantime, would order a bacon burger with cheese, or the chicken fried steak with cream gravy, or a pile of nachos. And then we'd have to have a whole conversation about it, with her justifying her food choices and criticizing mine, as if my dinner choice was some elaborately planned nasty comment on her self-insinuated lack of willpower or unhealthy appetite or whatever. She had no idea how difficult just those conversations were. I was trying to exercise INO ... and here she was reasoning me into wanting to eat like she did. I would rather have ignored the fact that sitting there before her, within my arms' reach, was a pile of gooey tortilla chips covered with the really good jalapenos that make you cry they're so hot.
After we'd gone into this way too many times, I started noticing other things. It was almost like I was finally tuning into our relationship. For one thing, I noticed that she mostly called me when she was miserable--and mostly wanted to talk to me when I was miserable. That she pretty consistently discouraged me from pursuing a relationship with a guy I was totally mad for ... a mutual friend who wasn't a big fan of TK's (which I think was why it bothered her so much that he and I were drifting closer and closer). And then she said something that really hurt--something I couldn't, as hard as I tried, come up with a good justification for.
TK was pretty insecure about her career. She was kind of cobbling together a living at the time, thinking about going back to school for SOMETHING--I don't think she even knew what. I guess she felt like she was floundering. I wasn't exactly in the most stable of situations then myself: I was working part time at a university, trying to finish my masters' thesis, freelance writing a bit. So it didn't even occur to me that she would see me as "successful" in comparison to her. Friendship, to me, wasn't about comparing or competing.
Any way, one night we were talking about writing, I guess, and my ambition to work for magazines, and TK said, "Well, ANYBODY can be a writer."
Ouch.
I don't remember what followed, but I know it wasn't anything along the lines of "... but GREAT writers are one in a million." All of a sudden, I saw how these comments, these conversations about my diet, were eating away at my preciously small store of self-confidence. I knew pretty immediately that I had to protect myself from that--from her--or all the progress I'd made was in jeopardy. I decided we needed to take a break. So I just quit calling, quit returning calls, made myself as scarce as I could.
But it wasn't as simple as that. I felt really conflicted, really bought into the "friends forever" idea. What (straight) girl breaks up with a girlfriend?
The other women in our little circle had no clue how to handle this--which just made me feel even worse, even weirder. I didn't even "announce" our trial separation ... but I didn't have to. All I had to do was show up at a party alone to get the buzz going.
I did talk about it with two guy friends, both of whom were also friends with TK. I think they asked me flat out (something none of the girls would do) what was up between us, and I said something vague. And then they launched into this whole thing: "It's so obvious that she's competing with you. She's just jealous." They said it as if they'd seen it all along, that, of course!, any idiot could see that.
Well, not THIS idiot.
That whole thing made me start really thinking about what a true friend is. I can't tell you how it CHANGED my definition, because I don't think I was really conscious of how I defined friendship. I started thinking that above everything else, friends are the people who truly want the best for you. They see beyond themselves and their own issue enough that they are happy when YOU are happy. They're not always looking at what you have, or what you're doing, or what you've accomplished, and plugging it into some balance sheet to figure out whose on top. They're not keeping score.
There's probably lots of other things that a true friend is. But for me, this is the heart of it. Sometimes I beat myself up over not calling my friends enough (I owe three of my closest friends calls right now, and it's killing me!). But they know I'm here, and I know they're there. And we both know what's important.
I truly believe that distancing myself from TK was one of the best things I've done, and not just because it helped me stay on my Former Fat Girl course. It made me look at the quality of all my relationships, to understand that in some cases (maybe many cases), I was only giving because that's how I got my value. I learned to start focusing more within, to continue to let go of "perfect," to act less to please others and more to please myself.
I got back in touch with TK years later--I was traveling to her town on business, and looked her up. We went to dinner, and she wanted to talk about it all. I let her say her piece because she needed to but ... what I really wanted to do was move on, catch up. I haven't talked to her since, but I think that's OK. I think we're OK.
So, to Erin, to all of you--that's my divorce story. I know it's not easy to say goodbye to people who have been with you for years. But maybe you try taking a break, and see how it feels. You don't have to write a Dear John (Jane?) letter, you don't have to officially say anything if you don't want (in fact, it might open you up to more pain). You never know--your absence might let them know you're really serious about this, and bring you to a real understanding.
Does anyone else have a break-up story? Happy endings are welcome!
thanks for reading--
Lisa D
OK, I was planning to write something really fun today, but I got a question from a reader that I really want to address here in the blog. Erin from somewhere in America (I suppose ... the foreign editions aren't out yet!) asked me if I ever had to "break up" with a friend during my FFG journey. And I don't think she's the only one wondering--there have been many posts on my guestbook from people whose family, friends, husbands who ... to say it nicely ... are less than supportive of their efforts to short-circuit the fat girl thinking in their heads and work towards a healthier image of themselves and their bodies.
Well, let me tell you a story.
When I was well on my way in my journey--I was a dedicated runner, a Weight Watchers devotee, etc.--I became best buds with a woman I'll call TK. (You know I believe in complete honesty, but I just can't see anything good coming of my naming names here ...) We were always hanging out ... it was one of those friendships where you rarely said my name without saying hers, and vice-versa. TK was funny, creative, smart, and naturally thin, athletic, blonde (but I liked her anyway--kidding!). And she had NO IDEA how it felt to be a fat girl. That is not to say that she never worried about her weight; I know she had gotten a bit heavy in college (before I knew her), and still had a 5-pound or so swing. But as you and I know, being a fat girl or Former Fat Girl isn't about how heavy you are or used to be. I know for a fact that there are women out there who have 20, 30, 40, 70 ... probably even more ... excess pounds on them who aren't fat girls--who aren't hiding behind their weight, who aren't sacrificing their own well-being taking care of everyone else's stuff, who aren't all-or-nothing thinkers who see every excess pound as a failure, and give up trying at all as a result.
TK was the kind of person who could eat a bag of cookies for dinner, and feel no shame in it. She'd just make up for it by eating less the next day. I could NEVER do that. I couldn't just shake it off and get back in the game, like a quarterback who was sacked in a big game. I'd lay there, wallowing in my pain, in my SHAME. And then I'd want to just quit--to give up on myself, my diet, my exercise plan, whatever, because IF YOU CAN'T BE PERFECT, THEN WHY TRY TO BE ANYTHING? My Former Fat Girl journey was all about working through that, about finding forgiveness, about letting go of perfection (in both behavior AND body!).
And let me tell you--friends, to me, were EVERYTHING. I was a giver, you understand, I was all about making people like me. I worked hard at being the PERFECT FRIEND, and wore that badge proudly.
But TK and I started having issues over food. We'd go out for dinner, and I'd order my salad with dressing on the side--no cheese, no croutons, and God forbid, no bacon!--or my baked potato with no butter (just salsa), or my naked grilled chicken breast. I was super-strict about my diet back then, because I wasn't yet a Former Fat Girl. I still didn't trust myself not to blow up if I had a shred of cheese, didn't trust that just a taste of something decadent wouldn't trigger a full-on binge. TK, in the meantime, would order a bacon burger with cheese, or the chicken fried steak with cream gravy, or a pile of nachos. And then we'd have to have a whole conversation about it, with her justifying her food choices and criticizing mine, as if my dinner choice was some elaborately planned nasty comment on her self-insinuated lack of willpower or unhealthy appetite or whatever. She had no idea how difficult just those conversations were. I was trying to exercise INO ... and here she was reasoning me into wanting to eat like she did. I would rather have ignored the fact that sitting there before her, within my arms' reach, was a pile of gooey tortilla chips covered with the really good jalapenos that make you cry they're so hot.
After we'd gone into this way too many times, I started noticing other things. It was almost like I was finally tuning into our relationship. For one thing, I noticed that she mostly called me when she was miserable--and mostly wanted to talk to me when I was miserable. That she pretty consistently discouraged me from pursuing a relationship with a guy I was totally mad for ... a mutual friend who wasn't a big fan of TK's (which I think was why it bothered her so much that he and I were drifting closer and closer). And then she said something that really hurt--something I couldn't, as hard as I tried, come up with a good justification for.
TK was pretty insecure about her career. She was kind of cobbling together a living at the time, thinking about going back to school for SOMETHING--I don't think she even knew what. I guess she felt like she was floundering. I wasn't exactly in the most stable of situations then myself: I was working part time at a university, trying to finish my masters' thesis, freelance writing a bit. So it didn't even occur to me that she would see me as "successful" in comparison to her. Friendship, to me, wasn't about comparing or competing.
Any way, one night we were talking about writing, I guess, and my ambition to work for magazines, and TK said, "Well, ANYBODY can be a writer."
Ouch.
I don't remember what followed, but I know it wasn't anything along the lines of "... but GREAT writers are one in a million." All of a sudden, I saw how these comments, these conversations about my diet, were eating away at my preciously small store of self-confidence. I knew pretty immediately that I had to protect myself from that--from her--or all the progress I'd made was in jeopardy. I decided we needed to take a break. So I just quit calling, quit returning calls, made myself as scarce as I could.
But it wasn't as simple as that. I felt really conflicted, really bought into the "friends forever" idea. What (straight) girl breaks up with a girlfriend?
The other women in our little circle had no clue how to handle this--which just made me feel even worse, even weirder. I didn't even "announce" our trial separation ... but I didn't have to. All I had to do was show up at a party alone to get the buzz going.
I did talk about it with two guy friends, both of whom were also friends with TK. I think they asked me flat out (something none of the girls would do) what was up between us, and I said something vague. And then they launched into this whole thing: "It's so obvious that she's competing with you. She's just jealous." They said it as if they'd seen it all along, that, of course!, any idiot could see that.
Well, not THIS idiot.
That whole thing made me start really thinking about what a true friend is. I can't tell you how it CHANGED my definition, because I don't think I was really conscious of how I defined friendship. I started thinking that above everything else, friends are the people who truly want the best for you. They see beyond themselves and their own issue enough that they are happy when YOU are happy. They're not always looking at what you have, or what you're doing, or what you've accomplished, and plugging it into some balance sheet to figure out whose on top. They're not keeping score.
There's probably lots of other things that a true friend is. But for me, this is the heart of it. Sometimes I beat myself up over not calling my friends enough (I owe three of my closest friends calls right now, and it's killing me!). But they know I'm here, and I know they're there. And we both know what's important.
I truly believe that distancing myself from TK was one of the best things I've done, and not just because it helped me stay on my Former Fat Girl course. It made me look at the quality of all my relationships, to understand that in some cases (maybe many cases), I was only giving because that's how I got my value. I learned to start focusing more within, to continue to let go of "perfect," to act less to please others and more to please myself.
I got back in touch with TK years later--I was traveling to her town on business, and looked her up. We went to dinner, and she wanted to talk about it all. I let her say her piece because she needed to but ... what I really wanted to do was move on, catch up. I haven't talked to her since, but I think that's OK. I think we're OK.
So, to Erin, to all of you--that's my divorce story. I know it's not easy to say goodbye to people who have been with you for years. But maybe you try taking a break, and see how it feels. You don't have to write a Dear John (Jane?) letter, you don't have to officially say anything if you don't want (in fact, it might open you up to more pain). You never know--your absence might let them know you're really serious about this, and bring you to a real understanding.
Does anyone else have a break-up story? Happy endings are welcome!
thanks for reading--
Lisa D
5 Comments:
Lisa my experience is similar to yours. I was on the best friends forever path with a certain individual I had come to know through work and school. To summarize a long, frustrating, drama- filled sequence of events, I had to walk away. I see her in passing now, and all I feel is pissed off and used. I feel ad for her though too; she finds her solace for all her misery in food and alcohol (and it shows).
At the time that I was hanging with her, I was in my fat girl phase and frame of mind. She in retrospect is probably the epitome of an extremely needy drama queen I have ever come across. But at the time I didn't see that because it felt so good to be needed by her. In retrospect though, as a current FFG, the other way to word that is that she was the taker in the relationship, and I was the giver. I was used and abused. When I needed her to be there for me, it was pretty sad... The breaking up was rough, sad, but expected. I was getting to a point where I did not want to be her 'giver'/audience anymore, and she needed a fan club. When talking to her, she could probably tell I was annoyed and fed up by my voice. She stopped calling me and has since found herself and gone through many many audiences!
Anyway, I used this experience and looked at in my FFG frame of mind. Said individual was like Debby Downer (Saturday Night Live Reference). She was NOT a positive person and dragged me down into her quagmire of despair whenever she had the chance. In fact! Our common bond while lamenting about her despair was food; we essentially stuffed our faces with food as a way to numb her problems/pain.
I came to establish some important criteria though based on this experience. I try very hard to surround myself with as many positive people as possible. I put the effort into relationships where the other person is giving just as much back. Most importantly though, I've learned to distinguish friends from acquaintances. Friends are there for me whenever/wherever/however best possible. Acquaintances are good for small talk or grabbing a quick lunch together. I don't know if this is necessarily cold or rude, but I make a point to keep conversations with acquaintances as superficial as possible.
I really appreciate that, Lisa. Your experience is very close to what I am going through. It has been hard to choose myself over others after being so available after all this time, and at the same time it's shocking when you realize that someone who has "been there" for you before really isn't when you need them most. I always try to not discuss my diet with others period, and if they bring it up, I keep my comments as brief as possible. But I realized that even if you don't say it, your choices are in the back of their minds. I found this out when I overheard a friend making a rude comment about my new perspective that really shocked me, since she applauded me to my face before. You have to make choices, albeit difficult ones, and come to a final decision. Thanks again so much for making it clear to me - I know which way to go in this relationship now.
This entry is SOOO relevant to me these days - I recently broke up with one/maybe two girlfriends.
The first is one that I am proud I did it but sad that 12 years of friendship is gone.
LC and I were out on the town. As we have done in the past. And as usual, when I have a few drinks in me I would begin to feel REALLY insecure - all the guys wanted to talk to her and not me (SO FAT GIRL of me).
Well much later in the evening (or actually early in the morning) I had a BIG meltdown!! The insecurity and alcohol put me into a tailspin. I was upset, crying and I left to go home.
After I arrived home I was concerned that I left my friend behind with some guys we just met so I tried to reach her. She was not answering her phone.
Eventually I decided to go back and look for her - she and her new "friends" were not where I left them.
Finally an hour later she calls me and lied about that they followed me home to make sure I was safe.
Long story short, LC did not care enough for our friendship to find out if I was ok when I left the home we were at.
So I have decided that anyone who would rather chat with new "friends" (especially male ones) instead of checking on the well being of a friend in need does not belong in my life.
Not to mention over the past years I have ALWAYS been there for her - accidents, sicknesses, boyfriends, ex-boyfriends, husbands, ex-husbands, stalkers and so on! The one time I needed her she was too preoccupied.
I feel great about my decision but lonely that I no longer have her in my life.
When my former friend said,
"here, wear this, it doesn't fit me anymore"
I knew this wasn't the kind of "friend" I needed in my life.
I know I'm the one that changed and she's probably still confused about why our friendship ended. But it had to; otherwise by accepting her comments, I was accepting less in my life.
And I wanted more.
Nice post, today.
I've been there too. Competition between friends just shouldn't be.
This person and I were friends for several years and practically attached at the hip. Everyone knew if they couldn't get ahold of us to call the other one and things like that. She would constantly compare our diets, workouts, clothes, etc. She used to tell everyone we wore the same size. I didn't say anything then because I didn't want to hurt her or her confidence but we really didn't. She treated boyfriends poorly and like property. The end of our friendship was the day I called her on it. She refused to talk to me and tried to get my roommate to pick my locks so she could get a CD of hers. It's been several years and I haven't seen or talked to her but I hear via friends she still gossips like we are still best buddies.
Losing that friendship of several years hurts but in the long run was so much better for me (and my sanity).
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