My heart was in my throat for the first half hour as I relearned how to ice skate. It's not something I forget, but every time I feel the panic anew, the unsteady feeling beneath my feet, the fear of falling, the longing to be wearing shoes again on steady ground.
I'm not a pro in any sense, yet after going around a few times, I felt myself easing up, moving with the music, enjoying myself thinking, maybe I can do this without falling embarrassingly on my bottom.
I didn't fall once, thank G-d, but every time I witnessed someone else fall, I reminded myself to not be cocky because that could have been me.
The ones who fell almost immediately got back up and kept going, either for fear of being trampled of simply because they refused to admit defeat. We will all fall at some point in life, it is inevitable. What we must remember is to never stay down, to get back up as fast as you can, muster as much dignity as possible, and keep going.
I weaved in and out of skaters trying to avoid a collision. This is nothing like driving, I thought. I'm pretty confident on the road, and comfortable enough in the fast lane that I pass plenty of people, and get annoyed when people pass me because I'm slow. But on the ice I don't really know how to stop without slamming into a wall, so the possibly of bumping into someone in my path is pretty high. People will always get in your way, cut in front of you, try to trip you up, but you have to swerve, to avoid them, to not get tangled up and not let it distract you from your goal.
There were some pretty experienced skaters on the ice, some much younger than me. I tried to go faster, even considered doing some fancy tricks, but alas that was sure to make me fall and feel like a big idiot. So I stuck to the 'safe' route, simply skating in a circle. You won't succeed if you don't try, that may be true, but you also have to know your limits. When you first learn to swim, most often you don't do so in the deep end. You start slow in the kiddy pool. When learning a new skill, you start at the bottom and work your way up. Yes, it's often frustrating to see people far surpassing you, and wishing you could be as good as or better than them. And maybe one day you will be. But envy and self-pity will get you no where, but hard work and determination will.
If you want to be great at something, you have to give it 100%.
What I learned tonight is that skating is not for me, and I'd much rather sit it out and watch the kids have a good time.
Monday, September 21, 2015
Never Alone
I hold it/her in my hand and speak to it/her softly. Why must men use male chickens and women use female ones, I wonder. I no longer think of it as an 'it', but a shivering mass of fear. We have one thing in common, this chickie and I. We are both afraid.
I watch the blood and gore, the stench of excrement stifling, holding a paper over my mouth so as not to accidentally inhale any feathers. PETA makes a spectacle out of this every year, but I'd like to believe that there really is no suffering. That for these chickens, death is a cleansing process, a relief, that they meet their maker in peace, having served their purpose here on earth.
I hold the chicken in my hand as I swing, and I wonder where I belong. As much as this age-old ritual is for the purpose of atonement, for me it is also a family ritual. I recall years of going to kaporos the night before yom kippur in middle of the night, my brothers holding the chickens in their gloved hands and swinging it for us. I have never touched a chicken in my life until today.
But this year has been a lot about firsts for me. I earned my bachelor's degree. I will soon own my first car. I've moved cities. I took a rode trip. I held a chicken in my (gloved) hands. While some of these things may seem ordinary to some, to me it is a big deal. I am growing up. I am asserting my independence and conquering my fears.
Although I tend to be a 'loner', one of my biggest fears is being alone. Not physically. I don't mind being home alone, even enjoy the peace and quiet. But throughout everything I go though in life, I want to know that there are people I can share it with, be it friends or family or a special someone. I admit I have made foolish decisions at times, simply based on the emotion of loneliness. I do realize that it is better to be alone then to be with someone who makes you feel bad about yourself. But I also realize now that the feelings of inferiority come from within, not without. No one can make you feel anything that you don't already feel inside. Maybe their personality brings out the worst in you, but it cannot be attributed to them.
I sit on the floor with my back to the washing machine trying to get some privacy as the kids come in and out climbing over me. I am enjoying this, my new normal. I chose this. I am happy here. I chat with my father even as I hear him playing Word Whomp in the background and he denies playing a game while talking to me on the phone. We talk longer than normal, and it is nice, no tension, no pressure, no ulterior motive, just a chance to speak to my father and enjoy his company.
I get a call on the other line and see it's my mother. My father thinks she is calling me because she is worried that he doesn't want to talk to me anymore. I remember when I was younger people would ask me if I was closer with my mother or my father, and I remember thinking that was a dumb question. I am equally close with both of my parents, I have different relationships with each of them.
After I hang up with my father I call my mother and we talk for awhile. There's a comfort in hearing their voices.
Sometimes I think of G-d as a 'friend' in the sense that I have conversations with Him in my head and think we are 'good'. Then I start thinking how serious Yom Kippur is, and how holy it is and I get worried. Maybe I'm not worthy of good things, maybe I have more to atone for then I first thought.
Let's say it really is this simple: You are never alone. I am never alone. We are never alone. Sometimes I think G-d is 'out to get me'. I get mad at the way things turn out and wonder why He can't do for me what I think I need. But let's say I'm wrong. Maybe this is exactly what I need, this growing up and breaking free, this cutting my strings so I can fly. This letting go so I can move on and grow up and discover the world on my own.
It's scary, yes. I cried, I sobbed at the thought of having to buy a car by myself. The thought of going to a dealership by myself was terrifying. But then a funny thing happened and it all worked out. You might call that luck, I call it G-d's intervention.
We might think He's 'out to get us' but remember that He does know best. Remind yourself of that in a few months when everything is working out, when everything is coming together when just a few short months ago you could have sworn that your life was falling apart.
Sometimes things have to fall apart in order for good things to fall into place. Cosmic shifts. I don't know if I believe all those sappy quotes but what I do know is that I don't need you. I don't need you. I don't need you. I don't need you.
Maybe I don't believe that. There are days that I fall back into old patterns, fall back on old relationships, ones so old and covered in dust there are no good feelings to fall back on, no matter how hard I try to drudge them up. But I remind myself that it's okay, I don't need that anymore. Throw down your crutches, let go of your security blanket, ride out the storm on your own.
You are not alone.
I watch the blood and gore, the stench of excrement stifling, holding a paper over my mouth so as not to accidentally inhale any feathers. PETA makes a spectacle out of this every year, but I'd like to believe that there really is no suffering. That for these chickens, death is a cleansing process, a relief, that they meet their maker in peace, having served their purpose here on earth.
I hold the chicken in my hand as I swing, and I wonder where I belong. As much as this age-old ritual is for the purpose of atonement, for me it is also a family ritual. I recall years of going to kaporos the night before yom kippur in middle of the night, my brothers holding the chickens in their gloved hands and swinging it for us. I have never touched a chicken in my life until today.
But this year has been a lot about firsts for me. I earned my bachelor's degree. I will soon own my first car. I've moved cities. I took a rode trip. I held a chicken in my (gloved) hands. While some of these things may seem ordinary to some, to me it is a big deal. I am growing up. I am asserting my independence and conquering my fears.
Although I tend to be a 'loner', one of my biggest fears is being alone. Not physically. I don't mind being home alone, even enjoy the peace and quiet. But throughout everything I go though in life, I want to know that there are people I can share it with, be it friends or family or a special someone. I admit I have made foolish decisions at times, simply based on the emotion of loneliness. I do realize that it is better to be alone then to be with someone who makes you feel bad about yourself. But I also realize now that the feelings of inferiority come from within, not without. No one can make you feel anything that you don't already feel inside. Maybe their personality brings out the worst in you, but it cannot be attributed to them.
I sit on the floor with my back to the washing machine trying to get some privacy as the kids come in and out climbing over me. I am enjoying this, my new normal. I chose this. I am happy here. I chat with my father even as I hear him playing Word Whomp in the background and he denies playing a game while talking to me on the phone. We talk longer than normal, and it is nice, no tension, no pressure, no ulterior motive, just a chance to speak to my father and enjoy his company.
I get a call on the other line and see it's my mother. My father thinks she is calling me because she is worried that he doesn't want to talk to me anymore. I remember when I was younger people would ask me if I was closer with my mother or my father, and I remember thinking that was a dumb question. I am equally close with both of my parents, I have different relationships with each of them.
After I hang up with my father I call my mother and we talk for awhile. There's a comfort in hearing their voices.
Sometimes I think of G-d as a 'friend' in the sense that I have conversations with Him in my head and think we are 'good'. Then I start thinking how serious Yom Kippur is, and how holy it is and I get worried. Maybe I'm not worthy of good things, maybe I have more to atone for then I first thought.
Let's say it really is this simple: You are never alone. I am never alone. We are never alone. Sometimes I think G-d is 'out to get me'. I get mad at the way things turn out and wonder why He can't do for me what I think I need. But let's say I'm wrong. Maybe this is exactly what I need, this growing up and breaking free, this cutting my strings so I can fly. This letting go so I can move on and grow up and discover the world on my own.
It's scary, yes. I cried, I sobbed at the thought of having to buy a car by myself. The thought of going to a dealership by myself was terrifying. But then a funny thing happened and it all worked out. You might call that luck, I call it G-d's intervention.
We might think He's 'out to get us' but remember that He does know best. Remind yourself of that in a few months when everything is working out, when everything is coming together when just a few short months ago you could have sworn that your life was falling apart.
Sometimes things have to fall apart in order for good things to fall into place. Cosmic shifts. I don't know if I believe all those sappy quotes but what I do know is that I don't need you. I don't need you. I don't need you. I don't need you.
Maybe I don't believe that. There are days that I fall back into old patterns, fall back on old relationships, ones so old and covered in dust there are no good feelings to fall back on, no matter how hard I try to drudge them up. But I remind myself that it's okay, I don't need that anymore. Throw down your crutches, let go of your security blanket, ride out the storm on your own.
You are not alone.
Thursday, September 17, 2015
Get up and go
The rain hasn't stopped in days. They wave their hands and say, "Well, it's hurricane season, you know". No, I don't know. I barely know anything about this place, I can't turn the corner without my GPS. Each morning I step gingerly over puddles to get to my car, and each evening I must wipe my feet thoroughly before entering the house to avoid muddy footprints.
I read about the earthquake in Chile as the walls shook from claps of thunder this morning, and I truly felt like it was a day to stay in bed. I wanted to call in "Not interested in coming to work today due to the gloomy weather" but I didn't think that would fly.
I love driving. I love the freedom of being able to get in my car and drive to work, or to stores or aimlessly, to be unchained. I left my old life behind and created a new one, and I'm happy. If part of that means leaving my friends behind while I try to figure things out, then I'm sorry. Sometimes when people ask how I am I really have nothing to say.
A professor with whom I was close recommended me for a research project and I am beyond flattered. He said that I stood out from all of the hundreds of students he taught, and then he made me promise that I wouldn't get stuck here. I wanted to play dumb and ask him what's wrong being here, but I think I know.
I know, because I am terribly afraid of failure. I know, because it is so much easier to lay low, stay under the radar, take each day as it comes, live off the grid, and any other term that is meant to describe not being active, not trying, not living the way life is meant to be lived.
Before, I was like a balloon filled with air, filled so much that I was ready to burst at any second, and coming here was like making a hole and letting the air out, getting rid of the tension, being able to breathe again. It was the best thing I ever did.
I'm here because of a friend, a person with whom I hope to be friends with for a long long time. But I also know that I can't stay here forever, at least not at this job or at this level in life. Soon I must move on.
I do want to promise that I won't get stuck here. I want to make a vow to myself, that I will set goals for myself and achieve them, that I will figure out what I want to do long term and work towards getting there, that I will find my passion and go for it, that I will go back to school if I have to and never stop learning.
I want to promise future me that I will not only try but that I will succeed, that in years from now I will look back at this moment and know that it was a turning point, that I made a decision to change things and then I did.
But although I know all this to be attainable, I also know I am too scared to try, too scared of failure to do anything.
I did try. In my own way. I drove to an abandoned looking building and circled the block twice, didn't go inside. Turns out it was the wrong place so I gave up and went home.
This is comfortable, this waking up in a new place, this going to a job where I barely have to think and there isn't much for me to do and still I get paid, this having dinner be cooked for me, having everything I need at my fingertips, having new family and friends to annoy and enjoy. I love it.
And yet, I know I'm hiding from life.
I don't want to break the news to him because I know he'll be disappointed when I leave. He's so happy to have me on board, so excited to show me what his plans are for the place, how much the company will grow in the next few months, years even. We're partners again and I love that. But this is holding me back from really living. I'm just pretending right now. Laying low, taking it easy, not thinking.
I think a part of me knows that me staying is not for him, but for me. Because sometimes, it is so much easier to stay, then to get up and go.
I read about the earthquake in Chile as the walls shook from claps of thunder this morning, and I truly felt like it was a day to stay in bed. I wanted to call in "Not interested in coming to work today due to the gloomy weather" but I didn't think that would fly.
I love driving. I love the freedom of being able to get in my car and drive to work, or to stores or aimlessly, to be unchained. I left my old life behind and created a new one, and I'm happy. If part of that means leaving my friends behind while I try to figure things out, then I'm sorry. Sometimes when people ask how I am I really have nothing to say.
A professor with whom I was close recommended me for a research project and I am beyond flattered. He said that I stood out from all of the hundreds of students he taught, and then he made me promise that I wouldn't get stuck here. I wanted to play dumb and ask him what's wrong being here, but I think I know.
I know, because I am terribly afraid of failure. I know, because it is so much easier to lay low, stay under the radar, take each day as it comes, live off the grid, and any other term that is meant to describe not being active, not trying, not living the way life is meant to be lived.
Before, I was like a balloon filled with air, filled so much that I was ready to burst at any second, and coming here was like making a hole and letting the air out, getting rid of the tension, being able to breathe again. It was the best thing I ever did.
I'm here because of a friend, a person with whom I hope to be friends with for a long long time. But I also know that I can't stay here forever, at least not at this job or at this level in life. Soon I must move on.
I do want to promise that I won't get stuck here. I want to make a vow to myself, that I will set goals for myself and achieve them, that I will figure out what I want to do long term and work towards getting there, that I will find my passion and go for it, that I will go back to school if I have to and never stop learning.
I want to promise future me that I will not only try but that I will succeed, that in years from now I will look back at this moment and know that it was a turning point, that I made a decision to change things and then I did.
But although I know all this to be attainable, I also know I am too scared to try, too scared of failure to do anything.
I did try. In my own way. I drove to an abandoned looking building and circled the block twice, didn't go inside. Turns out it was the wrong place so I gave up and went home.
This is comfortable, this waking up in a new place, this going to a job where I barely have to think and there isn't much for me to do and still I get paid, this having dinner be cooked for me, having everything I need at my fingertips, having new family and friends to annoy and enjoy. I love it.
And yet, I know I'm hiding from life.
I don't want to break the news to him because I know he'll be disappointed when I leave. He's so happy to have me on board, so excited to show me what his plans are for the place, how much the company will grow in the next few months, years even. We're partners again and I love that. But this is holding me back from really living. I'm just pretending right now. Laying low, taking it easy, not thinking.
I think a part of me knows that me staying is not for him, but for me. Because sometimes, it is so much easier to stay, then to get up and go.
Sunday, September 13, 2015
Confessions from someone who's never been in love
I've never been 'in love'. I abhor the term, as it conjures up romantic chic-flicks where guy meets girl, guy falls in love with girl, guy and girl live happily ever after. Or something equally as purge.
I've come to some realizations. I used to think of relationships as 'real' or 'fake'. If a relationship ended, especially if it ended badly, I labeled it as a 'fake' and claimed it basically never existed. It was easier to look at it that way then to deal with the pain of liking someone, or someone liking me, and then those feelings disappearing. My mind would go through mental stress of 'why don't they like me' or 'what did I do' and that was what hurt me, cut me down, made me feel like I wasn't worth it. But despite those feelings, I can now acknowledge that to get to that hurt place, there must have been a 'real' relationship to begin with, at least to some extent of reality.
Here are my life's lessons:
* You learn something from every person, no matter how shitty they treat you. Years down the line you will be doing something or thinking something and suddenly remember who taught you that. You will silently thank them for adding something to your life.
* When it's done, it's done. Walk away, don't stick around for more pain.
* Be with someone who wants to be with you.
* No relationship is better than a dysfunctional one.
* Food is never the answer.
* Don't start the year with them if you can't finish it with them.
I don't believe in 'settling'. You will meet a guy, and he will be perfect for you. Not perfect. Perfect for you. Sometimes they seem so perfect on paper, or they have all the qualities you are looking for but you just can't stand them, or they make you feel bad about yourself, or every time you think of them you get jealous because of the life they are living which seems so much better than yours. Sometimes a guy can seem perfect and you really really want it to be him but you know that it is not and will never be him.
Because somewhere out there is your perfect, and if you just hold out a little longer... I know you will meet him. And all the waiting will have been worth it.
I've come to some realizations. I used to think of relationships as 'real' or 'fake'. If a relationship ended, especially if it ended badly, I labeled it as a 'fake' and claimed it basically never existed. It was easier to look at it that way then to deal with the pain of liking someone, or someone liking me, and then those feelings disappearing. My mind would go through mental stress of 'why don't they like me' or 'what did I do' and that was what hurt me, cut me down, made me feel like I wasn't worth it. But despite those feelings, I can now acknowledge that to get to that hurt place, there must have been a 'real' relationship to begin with, at least to some extent of reality.
Here are my life's lessons:
* You learn something from every person, no matter how shitty they treat you. Years down the line you will be doing something or thinking something and suddenly remember who taught you that. You will silently thank them for adding something to your life.
* When it's done, it's done. Walk away, don't stick around for more pain.
* Be with someone who wants to be with you.
* No relationship is better than a dysfunctional one.
* Food is never the answer.
* Don't start the year with them if you can't finish it with them.
I don't believe in 'settling'. You will meet a guy, and he will be perfect for you. Not perfect. Perfect for you. Sometimes they seem so perfect on paper, or they have all the qualities you are looking for but you just can't stand them, or they make you feel bad about yourself, or every time you think of them you get jealous because of the life they are living which seems so much better than yours. Sometimes a guy can seem perfect and you really really want it to be him but you know that it is not and will never be him.
Because somewhere out there is your perfect, and if you just hold out a little longer... I know you will meet him. And all the waiting will have been worth it.
Friday, September 11, 2015
So we all had burgers
We sit on bar stools at night
eating burgers
and sausages
the juice dripping down my chin
trying to keep the onions from sliding out of the bun,
thinking
THIS
this is it,
these people
this time
this place,
here I have found a home.
So we all had burgers late at night,
my third dinner
I think,
can't quite remember
it was an exhausting day
but I get to come home
to family,
not by blood
but by choice.
Tomorrow is September 11,
I think wistfully of the towers,
kinda miss seeing them
on the horizon
I see them in pictures now
and old TV shows
and once a year on the news
and media
telling us
screaming at us
begging us
to never forget.
And although it's a day
that some among us were not around for
and many cannot remember
because fourteen years have now passed,
it's a day that we cannot
will not
won't let us
forget.
So we sit up late at night
eating burgers,
complaining about the traffic jam
responsibilities
exhaustion
menial day to day conversation
that mean nothing
and everything
just an all-American burger
in an all-American land.
A celebration
dedication
commemoration
of freedom.
eating burgers
and sausages
the juice dripping down my chin
trying to keep the onions from sliding out of the bun,
thinking
THIS
this is it,
these people
this time
this place,
here I have found a home.
So we all had burgers late at night,
my third dinner
I think,
can't quite remember
it was an exhausting day
but I get to come home
to family,
not by blood
but by choice.
Tomorrow is September 11,
I think wistfully of the towers,
kinda miss seeing them
on the horizon
I see them in pictures now
and old TV shows
and once a year on the news
and media
telling us
screaming at us
begging us
to never forget.
And although it's a day
that some among us were not around for
and many cannot remember
because fourteen years have now passed,
it's a day that we cannot
will not
won't let us
forget.
So we sit up late at night
eating burgers,
complaining about the traffic jam
responsibilities
exhaustion
menial day to day conversation
that mean nothing
and everything
just an all-American burger
in an all-American land.
A celebration
dedication
commemoration
of freedom.
Wednesday, September 9, 2015
Every Day
She always used to cut her hair
really short
said she liked it better that way,
more comfortable under her shaitel.
I always had the feeling that
she didn't mean it
that she just said it
because she stopped believing she was beautiful.
She finally decided to grow it out
was excited to see how long
it would grow,
to get it cut and styled, colored.
But then she cut it all off
when the cancer came,
decided not to wait for it to fall out
in tufts.
Said she's okay with it,
she's losing weight
because she can't stomach anything
she sees that as a plus.
I watch her fumbling with her mask,
she has to wear it on the plane.
I wonder what the other passengers think,
if they're dumb enough to think they could catch her germs.
I wonder about the air she breethes
and if it's killing her slowly,
or if the cancer is doing that
all by itself.
I see her eyes
above the mask
they're smiling at me,
telling me that she is okay.
For once I want to be the one
to comfort her
and not the other way around,
tell her everything will be okay.
I lay next to her trying to sleep
the TV flickering
she asks if it's bothering me
if I can't sleep.
But her presence is comforting,
I fall asleep wishing
I could wake up next to her
every day.
really short
said she liked it better that way,
more comfortable under her shaitel.
I always had the feeling that
she didn't mean it
that she just said it
because she stopped believing she was beautiful.
She finally decided to grow it out
was excited to see how long
it would grow,
to get it cut and styled, colored.
But then she cut it all off
when the cancer came,
decided not to wait for it to fall out
in tufts.
Said she's okay with it,
she's losing weight
because she can't stomach anything
she sees that as a plus.
I watch her fumbling with her mask,
she has to wear it on the plane.
I wonder what the other passengers think,
if they're dumb enough to think they could catch her germs.
I wonder about the air she breethes
and if it's killing her slowly,
or if the cancer is doing that
all by itself.
I see her eyes
above the mask
they're smiling at me,
telling me that she is okay.
For once I want to be the one
to comfort her
and not the other way around,
tell her everything will be okay.
I lay next to her trying to sleep
the TV flickering
she asks if it's bothering me
if I can't sleep.
But her presence is comforting,
I fall asleep wishing
I could wake up next to her
every day.
Friday, September 4, 2015
Super Girl
He offered me a Hello Kitty sticker.
I told him I hated Hello Kitty, did he have anything else.
He informed me that all the other stickers were boy stickers.
Despite trying to explain to him that stickers are gender neutral and I can like a 'boy' sticker, he didn't agree.
Then he dug this from his stash:
I put it on my laptop to remind myself that no matter what the world tells me, I don't have to be a 'girl'. I can be anything I want to be.
#BreakingStereotypes
I told him I hated Hello Kitty, did he have anything else.
He informed me that all the other stickers were boy stickers.
Despite trying to explain to him that stickers are gender neutral and I can like a 'boy' sticker, he didn't agree.
Then he dug this from his stash:
#BreakingStereotypes
Monday, August 31, 2015
What will it take
Open up your heart, and feel.
Open up your mind, and think.
What will it take to put yourself aside and appreciate the beauty around you?
It is hard to listen to a piece of music that touches your soul, when you are attracted to the one who sings it but can never have him.
It is hard to appreciate an artfully written essay when you are entirely jealous of the one who wrote it because she isn't you. Or you aren't her.
It is difficult to open yourself up and feel, to allow life to come inside, when you are mad that you aren't more like __________, that you haven't accomplished _______ yet, and maybe never will.
It is hard to watch someone else living the life you were meant to have, to see your dreams slipping away, and do nothing to catch them.
Open up your mind, and think.
What will it take to put yourself aside and appreciate the beauty around you?
It is hard to listen to a piece of music that touches your soul, when you are attracted to the one who sings it but can never have him.
It is hard to appreciate an artfully written essay when you are entirely jealous of the one who wrote it because she isn't you. Or you aren't her.
It is difficult to open yourself up and feel, to allow life to come inside, when you are mad that you aren't more like __________, that you haven't accomplished _______ yet, and maybe never will.
It is hard to watch someone else living the life you were meant to have, to see your dreams slipping away, and do nothing to catch them.
Sunday, August 30, 2015
Rain
They said the rain would stop, but I didn't believe them.
We walked along the canal, watched the flock of birds eating lunch. The fat waddling turkeys, the sad skinny-looking pigeons, ahhh a taste of home. The iguanas, and the pelicans. They moved aound each other peacefully, no pushing or shoving, a far cry from New York birds.
It was peaceful by the water, a nice breeze keeping us cool. We sat for awhile, talking as the winds got stronger and we felt the first rain drops. I thought we had awhile to get back, but they didn't. As we started walking the sky opened up and the rain came pouring down, soaking me instantly, my glasses a mass of spots.
We ran. We laughed, breathing hard, my wet curls falling in my face, no chance of seeing properly through my glasses, but it was glorious. We slowed to a walk and enjoyed the spray.
They said the rain would stop, but I didn't believe them.
Five minutes later is was gone, the sun coming out and drying us up, as if it had never rained at all.
We walked along the canal, watched the flock of birds eating lunch. The fat waddling turkeys, the sad skinny-looking pigeons, ahhh a taste of home. The iguanas, and the pelicans. They moved aound each other peacefully, no pushing or shoving, a far cry from New York birds.
It was peaceful by the water, a nice breeze keeping us cool. We sat for awhile, talking as the winds got stronger and we felt the first rain drops. I thought we had awhile to get back, but they didn't. As we started walking the sky opened up and the rain came pouring down, soaking me instantly, my glasses a mass of spots.
We ran. We laughed, breathing hard, my wet curls falling in my face, no chance of seeing properly through my glasses, but it was glorious. We slowed to a walk and enjoyed the spray.
They said the rain would stop, but I didn't believe them.
Five minutes later is was gone, the sun coming out and drying us up, as if it had never rained at all.
Thursday, August 27, 2015
The price of freedom
He said I could pick any car that I wanted.
Any car?
I made a beeline for the red one.
It drives beautifully, I was going 55 and it felt like I was floating.
I feel like I'm bleeding money, spending it faster than I'm making it. Which makes sense, since I'm not working at the moment, and good things in life cost money.
I used to scoff at people, the ones who wanted the best job, the best car, the best phone, everything costs money so instead of resigning themselves to spending less, they simply found a way to spend more. I guess I saw it as arrogance, but now I'm learning that it's mostly about lifestyle- you want to live and spend a certain way, you have to find a way to do that. I'm just used to being content with less, so I see it as money-hungry.
You can't beat freedom, the freedom of getting in a car and driving away, the freedom to have a phone and not worry about cell reception, the freedom to swipe a card and buy yourself food.
I'm high on freedom.
Now I just need to find a way to pay for it.
Any car?
I made a beeline for the red one.
It drives beautifully, I was going 55 and it felt like I was floating.
I feel like I'm bleeding money, spending it faster than I'm making it. Which makes sense, since I'm not working at the moment, and good things in life cost money.
I used to scoff at people, the ones who wanted the best job, the best car, the best phone, everything costs money so instead of resigning themselves to spending less, they simply found a way to spend more. I guess I saw it as arrogance, but now I'm learning that it's mostly about lifestyle- you want to live and spend a certain way, you have to find a way to do that. I'm just used to being content with less, so I see it as money-hungry.
You can't beat freedom, the freedom of getting in a car and driving away, the freedom to have a phone and not worry about cell reception, the freedom to swipe a card and buy yourself food.
I'm high on freedom.
Now I just need to find a way to pay for it.
Wednesday, August 26, 2015
You can lead a man to the water...
But you can't make him drink, you can't even help him, you can't force him, you can't hold his mouth open and shovel it in...
Why am I doing this, I wonder, as I make a ticket to fly 6 states away... I have a job, it's a start, some people don't even have a job...I don't have a car or an apartment or any real idea if it'll work out or how long I'll be there for...I shudder at the thought of signing a one year lease because who knows where I'll be in a year...then again, does anyone really know where they will be tomorrow, let alone a year from now?
So far most of the people I've been in contact with are nice and helpful, or at least polite if not helpful, my brother, my own flesh and blood, everyone tells me he will help me, but of course family is usually more of a headache then a help.
Life in New York was so easy, I didn't need a car, apartments were a dime a dozen, I didn't need anyone. I was Miss Independent and it was okay. Suddenly, I need other people to help me get around, to navigate this strange new city, and I am mad, not at them but at myself for needing other people.
I asked my brother to come with me to check out a used car for sale, he said I don't need him...but I do, I do. Until now I was basically going in with my eyes closed, not thinking about it, just going, just doing, I figured at some point the dam would break, and I guess tonight it did.
I need someone to hold my hand, to walk me through the scary parts in life. For me, that's buying a car when I have no idea what a car is. Yes, like a girl I chose one based on the color...
I want someone else to do the thinking, to explain the legal jargon, to make sure I'm not getting myself into anything shady.
I can be a strong independent person, I have been until now, only now I am finding myself in deeper water, unfamiliar territory, more real world then ever before...
I came down with a horrible cold last night, maybe from the air conditioner, or lack of sleep, or change in weather...or maybe it's my body's way of telling myself that I can't do this after all.
Why am I doing this, I wonder, as I make a ticket to fly 6 states away... I have a job, it's a start, some people don't even have a job...I don't have a car or an apartment or any real idea if it'll work out or how long I'll be there for...I shudder at the thought of signing a one year lease because who knows where I'll be in a year...then again, does anyone really know where they will be tomorrow, let alone a year from now?
So far most of the people I've been in contact with are nice and helpful, or at least polite if not helpful, my brother, my own flesh and blood, everyone tells me he will help me, but of course family is usually more of a headache then a help.
Life in New York was so easy, I didn't need a car, apartments were a dime a dozen, I didn't need anyone. I was Miss Independent and it was okay. Suddenly, I need other people to help me get around, to navigate this strange new city, and I am mad, not at them but at myself for needing other people.
I asked my brother to come with me to check out a used car for sale, he said I don't need him...but I do, I do. Until now I was basically going in with my eyes closed, not thinking about it, just going, just doing, I figured at some point the dam would break, and I guess tonight it did.
I need someone to hold my hand, to walk me through the scary parts in life. For me, that's buying a car when I have no idea what a car is. Yes, like a girl I chose one based on the color...
I want someone else to do the thinking, to explain the legal jargon, to make sure I'm not getting myself into anything shady.
I can be a strong independent person, I have been until now, only now I am finding myself in deeper water, unfamiliar territory, more real world then ever before...
I came down with a horrible cold last night, maybe from the air conditioner, or lack of sleep, or change in weather...or maybe it's my body's way of telling myself that I can't do this after all.
Tuesday, August 25, 2015
#Hashtag#
In the world of hashtags, apparently anything goes.
#lolololololololol
Despite Justin T and Jimmy Falon's obvious hilarity and chemistry, mile long hashtag sentences are truly annoying.
#whydon'tyouwriteasentencewithspaces?
#lolololololololol
Despite Justin T and Jimmy Falon's obvious hilarity and chemistry, mile long hashtag sentences are truly annoying.
#whydon'tyouwriteasentencewithspaces?
Tuesday, August 18, 2015
The sound my phone makes
My phone pings as I walk down the frozen food isle in the grocery store and my heart jumps, it always makes me think of you. It's not you, these days it barely ever is you, but I can't help wondering, thinking, wishing that it were.
My phone is a third hand, it is not just a part of me, it is me, I check it right before I go to sleep and the second I wake up, I tell myself I should live more in reality, what is going on right in front of me but even in company I find myself checking texts, emails, Facebook updates, living in my virtual reality and wishing I could live inside my phone.
They call it an addiction, saying that we have to learn how to detox and ween ourselves off of technology, make more time for the people in our lives that we can see, exercise more, go outside, breath the air, leave our phones behind. But it is hard when that is the way you learn to connect with people, when text has replaced real conversations and people thousands of miles away are closer to us then people sitting across from us.
I hate how the sounds my phone makes automatically sends my mind in your direction, I hate that I expect a text to be from you, or an email, or a Facebook post. I hate how much I depend on other people to make my life complete, I hate that my phone has become my prison.
I hate the sound my phone makes, but mostly I hate that it is never you.
My phone is a third hand, it is not just a part of me, it is me, I check it right before I go to sleep and the second I wake up, I tell myself I should live more in reality, what is going on right in front of me but even in company I find myself checking texts, emails, Facebook updates, living in my virtual reality and wishing I could live inside my phone.
They call it an addiction, saying that we have to learn how to detox and ween ourselves off of technology, make more time for the people in our lives that we can see, exercise more, go outside, breath the air, leave our phones behind. But it is hard when that is the way you learn to connect with people, when text has replaced real conversations and people thousands of miles away are closer to us then people sitting across from us.
I hate how the sounds my phone makes automatically sends my mind in your direction, I hate that I expect a text to be from you, or an email, or a Facebook post. I hate how much I depend on other people to make my life complete, I hate that my phone has become my prison.
I hate the sound my phone makes, but mostly I hate that it is never you.
Monday, August 17, 2015
I'm happy for you
Every time a guy I dated gets engaged, I don't know why but I feel the need to reassure other people that I am okay, that I am fine, that in fact I am happy for him, and it feels like closure, that now I know for sure that I made the right choice saying no.
This is especially true regarding someone with whom I had a longer relationship. It is obvious- he has moved on, and I am still single. So what does that say about me?
I saw him recently, he works in a store near where I live. I thought about going in there, saying hey, remember me, or maybe acting all nonchalant and seeing how he reacted to seeing me. But I decided not to do that, to spare him the pain and trauma of seeing me again after all this time, seeing as I was the one who ended things with him, and he obviously still carried a torch for me.
What a good person I am, thought I.
Imagine my horror when I saw he got engaged last week. How can that be? I thought I broke him. He pined for me, I told him it was over, I thought he would never love again. But there are pictures, evidence that he has moved on, that he is in fact happy. How can that be?
My friend texted me to ask if I saw that he had gotten engaged, she said "I guess he could love again".
I guess so.
I smiled a soft smile, and in my heart I wished him mazal tov. The part of me that once cared about him is truly and genuinely happy for him. To know that he has found happiness with someone else. Sometimes that's all the closure we need.
This is especially true regarding someone with whom I had a longer relationship. It is obvious- he has moved on, and I am still single. So what does that say about me?
I saw him recently, he works in a store near where I live. I thought about going in there, saying hey, remember me, or maybe acting all nonchalant and seeing how he reacted to seeing me. But I decided not to do that, to spare him the pain and trauma of seeing me again after all this time, seeing as I was the one who ended things with him, and he obviously still carried a torch for me.
What a good person I am, thought I.
Imagine my horror when I saw he got engaged last week. How can that be? I thought I broke him. He pined for me, I told him it was over, I thought he would never love again. But there are pictures, evidence that he has moved on, that he is in fact happy. How can that be?
My friend texted me to ask if I saw that he had gotten engaged, she said "I guess he could love again".
I guess so.
I smiled a soft smile, and in my heart I wished him mazal tov. The part of me that once cared about him is truly and genuinely happy for him. To know that he has found happiness with someone else. Sometimes that's all the closure we need.
Friday, August 14, 2015
Open Road
You run, you know, but you don't what you're running from, or where you're running to, but it gets so easy when you don't have to think about it, simply get in the car and drive for 4 days straight, stopping to see the scenery and to sleep a little, just a little, you are so tired but it's fine because your body adjusts until you can't tell anymore. All the driving makes you tired but you can't admit that, you can't stop because stopping means thinking and you can't think right now. So you jump from state to state, you take pictures and smile and share memories on Facebook and you are not faking it, you are genuinely having a great time. During the day you are fine, the driving is thrilling as you navigate the highway and try to guess everyone else's next move, it's a game to you, trying to get ahead and stay ahead. It's the nighttime that gets to you, suddenly the streetlights are gone and the road is wide open and pitch black, the lights from the oncoming cars are bright and glaring, you can't see the road, the windshield is foggy, you drift lanes and you know it's time to stop. She offers to take over driving but you can't admit that you are terrified and trembling, probably because the air is on full blast so you don't fall asleep and drift lanes, but the dark worries you because it is unfamiliar, it is unknown, it is terrifying but you can't relinquish control. She finally takes over so you can sleep and you try but you can't, you watch the road, you watch the speed, you watch the windshield and you worry, she says she's fine but you worry, you can't stop trying to control everything. But it's okay because you are having a nice trip and the constant moving helps distract you. But you get to your destination and your body starts to shut down, it is ready to crash and suddenly you are so exhausted and not moving and not sure what to do next, and no idea what comes after next.
Like the dark, the uncertainty worries you, but maybe if you can just keep going, can you keep moving forever and never stop?
Sunday, August 9, 2015
Don't let them...fall
The balls are thrown about the crowd, hitting heads and hands and arms as kids and people chase them, throw them, try to keep them in the air, keep the game going for as long as they can, don't let them touch the ground, don't let them fall.
We all wear masks around friends, family and even ourselves. We share some but not all of our thoughts, perhaps because some thoughts are not meant to be shared, or some things we simply don't want to admit.
So we lie, we say things like "I'm happy" when we're really not, or "I'm excited" when everything feels horrible.
We feel the pressure to put on a face for society, show them that we are alright, that we are holding it all together, when inside all we are thinking of is how everything is falling apart.
We all wear masks around friends, family and even ourselves. We share some but not all of our thoughts, perhaps because some thoughts are not meant to be shared, or some things we simply don't want to admit.
So we lie, we say things like "I'm happy" when we're really not, or "I'm excited" when everything feels horrible.
We feel the pressure to put on a face for society, show them that we are alright, that we are holding it all together, when inside all we are thinking of is how everything is falling apart.
Tuesday, August 4, 2015
I am with child
I met a friend of mine tonight for dinner. She didn't let me know her buddy would be coming too.
I guess there's a new friend in our circle.
He's about 25" tall, and weighs under 20 lbs.
He is healthy looking, but carries around some extra weight in the chin area.
He drools a lot, and likes to grab my hands when I extend them in greeting.
He is respectful when others are talking, and only makes noise to alert others that he is hungry, tired, thirsty, or has soiled his undergarments.
He is 5 months old, his initials spell YAY, and he answers to the nickname 'chiller'. He has a shmushy face and looks like he could be a Gerber baby.
I didn't realize that friends getting married means they come with husbands now.
I didn't realize that friends having kids means they come with babies now.
I didn't realize that things changing means they would never again be the same.
A conversation that once would have been about haircuts, bang length and styling is now about sheitel brands, coloring and hair texture. "Feel how soft it is!" she tells me. Um, no thanks, I really don't want to touch your hair, home grown or otherwise.
What once may have been a steamy conversation about guys and dating now centers around husband, baby, job, sleep or lack thereof, schedules, free time (which is never) and hurried conversations whilst rocking a baby stroller to and fro anxiously trying to calm a baby's cries.
Babies are cute. I like babies. I like holding them, and playing with them, I like when they smile and laugh and clap their hands, I like when they are asleep, I like it less when they cry but don't mind changing diapers.
I like babies.
But I don't have any.
Which is not to say that you can't bring your baby along when we go on an outing.
Which is not to say that you can't talk about your baby all the time.
Which is not to say that I won't smile or laugh at the cutest thing your kid just did, marvel at the fact that he is crawling already at 5 months (gasp, no way!), discuss the pros and cons of breastfeeding vs. bottles, like the pictures you share online, or be understandable when you are late or can't come because your child/husband/thing came up.
But you have to understand that when we single girls go on a spontaneous outing to Brooklyn Bridge Park, share laughing pictures online of the fun times we had and you are insulted that we didn't include you: please know that we didn't do it intentionally. We didn't stop to think about if you would be free at that particular time, how much time you would need to get you and your baby ready, how difficult it would be for you to schlep a stroller with a child up and down the subway steps, maneuver it onto a subway car, feed a crying baby in public, how awkward it would be for you to run/walk/skip/jump/hop the way we do on a whim.
Which is not to say that we won't include you in the future.
But we are single.
You are with child now.
Things will never be the same.
I guess there's a new friend in our circle.
He's about 25" tall, and weighs under 20 lbs.
He is healthy looking, but carries around some extra weight in the chin area.
He drools a lot, and likes to grab my hands when I extend them in greeting.
He is respectful when others are talking, and only makes noise to alert others that he is hungry, tired, thirsty, or has soiled his undergarments.
He is 5 months old, his initials spell YAY, and he answers to the nickname 'chiller'. He has a shmushy face and looks like he could be a Gerber baby.
I didn't realize that friends getting married means they come with husbands now.
I didn't realize that friends having kids means they come with babies now.
I didn't realize that things changing means they would never again be the same.
A conversation that once would have been about haircuts, bang length and styling is now about sheitel brands, coloring and hair texture. "Feel how soft it is!" she tells me. Um, no thanks, I really don't want to touch your hair, home grown or otherwise.
What once may have been a steamy conversation about guys and dating now centers around husband, baby, job, sleep or lack thereof, schedules, free time (which is never) and hurried conversations whilst rocking a baby stroller to and fro anxiously trying to calm a baby's cries.
Babies are cute. I like babies. I like holding them, and playing with them, I like when they smile and laugh and clap their hands, I like when they are asleep, I like it less when they cry but don't mind changing diapers.
I like babies.
But I don't have any.
Which is not to say that you can't bring your baby along when we go on an outing.
Which is not to say that you can't talk about your baby all the time.
Which is not to say that I won't smile or laugh at the cutest thing your kid just did, marvel at the fact that he is crawling already at 5 months (gasp, no way!), discuss the pros and cons of breastfeeding vs. bottles, like the pictures you share online, or be understandable when you are late or can't come because your child/husband/thing came up.
But you have to understand that when we single girls go on a spontaneous outing to Brooklyn Bridge Park, share laughing pictures online of the fun times we had and you are insulted that we didn't include you: please know that we didn't do it intentionally. We didn't stop to think about if you would be free at that particular time, how much time you would need to get you and your baby ready, how difficult it would be for you to schlep a stroller with a child up and down the subway steps, maneuver it onto a subway car, feed a crying baby in public, how awkward it would be for you to run/walk/skip/jump/hop the way we do on a whim.
Which is not to say that we won't include you in the future.
But we are single.
You are with child now.
Things will never be the same.
Monday, August 3, 2015
The internet is not safe anymore
I know it never was. Before people really knew about the dangers lurking online they felt relatively secure. When webcams first became popular no one knew of the possibility that someone could hack in and spy on them. I call it, before and after. Before, people didn't know. Now they are too scared to know.
The internet as a whole may not be safe but people find places where they feel a certain sense of security. Maybe forums (a dying breed) or blogs (almost completely dead) or Facebook or instagram or Twitter, somewhere where they can just BE without anyone else infringing.
But now it is not safe. Bloggers bring trolls and stalkers. Facebook suggests named of people I most certainly do not want to be friends with and would rather never be reminded of again. They take advantage of my momentary weakness, I searched for you and I found you and I remembered why I didn't want to know you existed. I wish I could unknow. I wish I could unsee. I wish Facebook didn't track my every move.
When relationships used to take place in the physical realm, it was possible to delete all traces of someone. Burn their letters, chop up their pictures, get rid of any mementos and eventually the memories fade.
Today, it is much harder. Delete the emails. Delete the texts and pictures and even phone number. Unfriend them. Delete their email address. You think you can forget and move on but I guarantee you it is not over. It may never be over.
You can run, but you have no where to hide from the clawing cloying conniving hand of the internet that is intent on reminding you everything and everyone you long to forget.
The internet as a whole may not be safe but people find places where they feel a certain sense of security. Maybe forums (a dying breed) or blogs (almost completely dead) or Facebook or instagram or Twitter, somewhere where they can just BE without anyone else infringing.
But now it is not safe. Bloggers bring trolls and stalkers. Facebook suggests named of people I most certainly do not want to be friends with and would rather never be reminded of again. They take advantage of my momentary weakness, I searched for you and I found you and I remembered why I didn't want to know you existed. I wish I could unknow. I wish I could unsee. I wish Facebook didn't track my every move.
When relationships used to take place in the physical realm, it was possible to delete all traces of someone. Burn their letters, chop up their pictures, get rid of any mementos and eventually the memories fade.
Today, it is much harder. Delete the emails. Delete the texts and pictures and even phone number. Unfriend them. Delete their email address. You think you can forget and move on but I guarantee you it is not over. It may never be over.
You can run, but you have no where to hide from the clawing cloying conniving hand of the internet that is intent on reminding you everything and everyone you long to forget.
Sunday, August 2, 2015
Not quite done yet
There's something about joining pre-existing family life that is like jumping on a moving train. When everyone is pretty much settled in and you are the last one to join. When everyone knows the rhythm and you are clearly the newby.
Family is safe. They are familiar. They love you, they hate you, they make jokes at your expense, they fight over rooms and places at the table and last pieces of pie.
We have a motto in my family: "You snooze, you lose", which in Latin translates to "Tu dormis, tu perdis" (which incidentally I just read in a book called The Sellout and exclaimed excitedly to my father that the author stole our motto). This motto applies to anything, really. It's the answer to all questions, solicited or otherwise.
There's a learning curve. I've only been here since Thursday night and it's been years really since I've lived at home. So I watch, and I learn. One stays up all night and sleeps all day. One does the food shopping and cooks dinner, the kitchen is her domain. One stays out for weeks at a time, I've been told he's living at home but I've seen no evidence of it. The baby who is now legally no longer a minor works all day and hangs out with friends at 2 am, he smokes, and has no idea if or where he's going for yeshiva next year. My parents don't tell anyone what to do or how to live their lives, so even though I'm itching to parent him, I know it's not my place.
Life moves at a slower pace here. If you've accomplished one thing today it's a good day. On Friday I spent half the day with my nieces and came home exhausted. On Shabbos I walked over to my sister (40 minute walk) and arrived just as the kids were going to bed. The kids thought it was hilarious, their parents did not.
I asked my siblings what there is to do around here, they said not much. I hear kids hang out by the local 7-Eleven but I hate slurpees plus I'm not 17 anymore. Which I'm being reminded of constantly, and it hurts because part of me still feels like a teenager and the rest of me is 25 and wishing I knew what it meant to 'act my age'.
I'm trying to figure out my new normal. I'm wrapping up school this week and that's exciting, plus I know I did all I could to set myself up for success in the future. My GPA is great, I'm part of an honors society, I have quite a lot of work experience, and a nice sum in savings. For all intents and purposes, my future looks bright.
I was walking today and taking in the scenery, the fresh breeze, the trees and grass and peace and quiet, and thinking, I could get used to this. But my sister says I wouldn't last very long here. She predicts that I will gain 50 lbs, be bored and miserable living at home.
I'm not done yet. I know that. This is not the end for me. My story doesn't end with me single at 25 moving back home with my parents having a degree but no job, and chillin like a villain. I wasn't made for this. So the question is, what's next?
The crickets and the dropping night temperatures, and the darkness outside that makes you wonder if there is anything out there- and the smell of brownies.
What is normal, really?
Family is safe. They are familiar. They love you, they hate you, they make jokes at your expense, they fight over rooms and places at the table and last pieces of pie.
We have a motto in my family: "You snooze, you lose", which in Latin translates to "Tu dormis, tu perdis" (which incidentally I just read in a book called The Sellout and exclaimed excitedly to my father that the author stole our motto). This motto applies to anything, really. It's the answer to all questions, solicited or otherwise.
There's a learning curve. I've only been here since Thursday night and it's been years really since I've lived at home. So I watch, and I learn. One stays up all night and sleeps all day. One does the food shopping and cooks dinner, the kitchen is her domain. One stays out for weeks at a time, I've been told he's living at home but I've seen no evidence of it. The baby who is now legally no longer a minor works all day and hangs out with friends at 2 am, he smokes, and has no idea if or where he's going for yeshiva next year. My parents don't tell anyone what to do or how to live their lives, so even though I'm itching to parent him, I know it's not my place.
Life moves at a slower pace here. If you've accomplished one thing today it's a good day. On Friday I spent half the day with my nieces and came home exhausted. On Shabbos I walked over to my sister (40 minute walk) and arrived just as the kids were going to bed. The kids thought it was hilarious, their parents did not.
I asked my siblings what there is to do around here, they said not much. I hear kids hang out by the local 7-Eleven but I hate slurpees plus I'm not 17 anymore. Which I'm being reminded of constantly, and it hurts because part of me still feels like a teenager and the rest of me is 25 and wishing I knew what it meant to 'act my age'.
I'm trying to figure out my new normal. I'm wrapping up school this week and that's exciting, plus I know I did all I could to set myself up for success in the future. My GPA is great, I'm part of an honors society, I have quite a lot of work experience, and a nice sum in savings. For all intents and purposes, my future looks bright.
I was walking today and taking in the scenery, the fresh breeze, the trees and grass and peace and quiet, and thinking, I could get used to this. But my sister says I wouldn't last very long here. She predicts that I will gain 50 lbs, be bored and miserable living at home.
I'm not done yet. I know that. This is not the end for me. My story doesn't end with me single at 25 moving back home with my parents having a degree but no job, and chillin like a villain. I wasn't made for this. So the question is, what's next?
The crickets and the dropping night temperatures, and the darkness outside that makes you wonder if there is anything out there- and the smell of brownies.
What is normal, really?
Thursday, July 30, 2015
Men + Women = Friendship?
There are differences when it comes to friendships amongst men and friendships amongst women. We are talking primarily about same gender friendships, as opposed to cross gender.
It may appear that men have more friends than do women, as men tend to have larger social networks or groups, whereas women spend more time in dyads, or pairs, and form closer one-on-one connections.
The reasons for friendship amongst men and women are also different. Men tend to have more activity-based friendships, while women spend more time in conversation with friends. Men assert more dominance and knowledge display in conversation, and women focus on conversation maintenance- establishing and maintaining relationships.
Women are more agreeable in their language, using disclaimers like "I may be wrong, but..." or hedges, "sort of", "kind of", and intensifiers "very", "really", "seriously". This may reflect on their level of confidence in their own opinions or knowledge base, or it may show a desire to be compliant with the person they are talking to, to avoid conflict.
Men generally avoid personal disclosure. They see it as a weakness to open up to friends and share personal thoughts or feelings. Women engage more in self-disclosure, tending to share their feelings and emotions with close friends.
Although there are difference between friendships among men and women, there are more similarities. Ultimately, the reasons for friendship between men and women, either same gender or cross gender, are the same. From The Psychology of Gender by Vicki Helgeson, "Both men and women want the same things from friendship and view self-disclosure, empathy, trust, and expressions of support as the most important features of a friendship."
It may appear that men have more friends than do women, as men tend to have larger social networks or groups, whereas women spend more time in dyads, or pairs, and form closer one-on-one connections.
The reasons for friendship amongst men and women are also different. Men tend to have more activity-based friendships, while women spend more time in conversation with friends. Men assert more dominance and knowledge display in conversation, and women focus on conversation maintenance- establishing and maintaining relationships.
Women are more agreeable in their language, using disclaimers like "I may be wrong, but..." or hedges, "sort of", "kind of", and intensifiers "very", "really", "seriously". This may reflect on their level of confidence in their own opinions or knowledge base, or it may show a desire to be compliant with the person they are talking to, to avoid conflict.
Men generally avoid personal disclosure. They see it as a weakness to open up to friends and share personal thoughts or feelings. Women engage more in self-disclosure, tending to share their feelings and emotions with close friends.
Although there are difference between friendships among men and women, there are more similarities. Ultimately, the reasons for friendship between men and women, either same gender or cross gender, are the same. From The Psychology of Gender by Vicki Helgeson, "Both men and women want the same things from friendship and view self-disclosure, empathy, trust, and expressions of support as the most important features of a friendship."
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