Friends in real life, friends in pictures. I grew up with girls that were not borne into my family, but were considered to be my sisters. We ate and slept in each other’s houses, sometimes uninvited but mostly welcomed. We shared stories and heartbreaks that cannot be repeated outside of our group. We held each other up even through exhaustion. We mostly celebrated many happy occasions together. In-fighting was rare and we had the ability to make up quickly. We’re fortunate that we all did not agree to break up at the same time. There’s always one that acted as the glue during our divisiveness.
As kids, it seems like we were always together. My childhood was mostly shaped by them. They provided the fun to my reserved life. They were making waves while I was trying not to rock the boat. As we grew older, it was inevitable that I would find my voice. My girlfriends were strong and beautiful. I think osmosis really does work. Even as poor kids, we believed we were just as good as the next kid. I truly struggled to make myself believe that initially. But when I saw how proud my group of friends were of me for the simplest achievements, I believed I was good, if not better than the others. We were the early “girl power” group. Funny how a chance meeting lead to 38 years of friendship. Here’s to serendipity, along with many more years of sisterhood and bonding.
I’m still the smallest, “boring-est” and nerdiest of the group. You would think after all these years, at least one thing can change. Nope, it is what it is. They’re still the fun kids and I’m the mundane one.