Hidden. . .

My blog has been put on the shelf for a bit because I was biting my tongue, hoping to muster up something different other than what I really wanted to speak about, but ‘me being me’---that’s not an option sometimes. When I cover up a true post from the heart, I seem to ramble on about this that and the other thing. Just a bunch of nothingness on a blank page, perhaps a facade of what’s truly brewing. I believe blogs are personal and whether or not you want to keep it semi-vague or right to the point, is totally up to you.

I’m always puzzled by certain friends who make everything so damn complicated. Every single word out of their mouths are either a hidden agenda, a motive or an insult disguised so well, that it could be taken in another light, so to speak. One of my friends had dropped by for dinner and drinks. We toss a few jokes around here and there, but we have already discussed how we would never venture over to the borderline of personal insults or attacks---just light playing around type of banters. She had always told me how sensitive she was when someone would poke fun at her accent, or misunderstood what she had said to them. I took this info and stored it up in my very tiny noggin. I always told her how sensitive I was about my weight and how hard I try each time to lose it, but keep going up and down like a yo-yo. She was heavier a long time ago and lost all the weight so she could definitely relate to my struggle.

Madelene came home to join us, and again, the ‘light bantering’ back and forth between my friend and I was being flung around, but for some reason this particular time, I felt the anger over on my friend’s side. I was confused, was it anger or was I taking it the wrong way? Madelene had explained how she didn’t get one break all day at work, so she had to skip lunch. My friend interrupts her and blurts out, “Hey Deb, have you ever skipped a meal before?” Now, granted I had joked around once when I was sick and said, “This is the first time in my life where I actually skipped a meal.” It was funny, but the difference was--I said it. So I replied, “No, never, but I’m glad Madelene likes my curves - and that’s all that matters to me.” Mad chimed in how she loved the way I look, but then my friend interrupted her again and said, “Oh, is that what you call it?” It didn’t stop there. Regardless if it was the five full goblets of wine she was drinking or some hidden anger going on---it was disrespectful. The first comment would have sufficed, but the second and third threw me in for a loop.

I then said without hesitation: “I’m sorry, I didn’t understand what you said because your English kinda sucks.” Then there were tears. Madelene kept asking the both of us if we wanted seltzer. “Anyone want seltzer? I can pour you both some seltzer... Seltzer?” I didn’t quite understand that offer, but okay. I shuffled over to my friend who was leaning on the couch with her head in her hands, put my arm around her (assured her I wouldn’t kiss her to get a chuckle out of her), and then said, “Listen, I’m sorry. Let’s just eat dinner and have a good time, okay?” But, she refused and wouldn’t talk to me. After ten minutes of awkward silence, I grabbed my glass of wine and informed the both of them that the salmon was done, to please serve and eat whatever you’d like and I’ll be in the bedroom to watch a movie. “Goodnight.”

My friend walked into my bedroom after fifteen minutes or so and says, “But I don’t know what I did to upset you...” See, I have a problem with this statement. I told her, “That’s just it.” When people don’t hold themselves accountable for their actions and words and try to blow off their insults by saying they don’t know what they did ---that makes me even angrier. I was the one who went up to her and apologized, just to keep the peace, when it should have been her that should have apologized for making me feel really bad about myself when I have been dieting and exercising and really putting in the effort. She didn’t have any consideration for my feelings, which is why now, I understand why some people in her life get upset with her and eventually leave her life. I used to stand up for her and say, “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. I’m sure she was in the wrong...her loss!” But now, looking back, she is a very angry woman with hidden agendas that I just cannot understand.

Do people realize what they say or do they simply blow “sensitive topics” off, as if it was no big deal? Maybe some think other people are just stronger and more capable of handling personal insults? It’s not like we’re two huge lumberjacks tossing around fat jokes over here. We’re women. We’re sensitive. We need support if we feel insecure about a particular thing in our lives. It’s not like I don’t know about my weight, but there is a fine line between poking fun and downright insulting someone. To tell you the truth, I’m quite surprised that all of this transpired. I’m not sure if it was something brewing deep inside or if she had drank a bit too much, but like they say, sometimes alcohol is the purest kind of truth serum. And it’s not that I don’t forgive her, because I tried to sort things out while she was here, but it’s more about my frustrations of having difficult and complicated friends with hidden agendas, or perhaps I should say, hidden anger. Maybe I should have hidden the wine.