What is this post even about?

So I spent 5 days in Indiana last week. It was a great trip-completely paid for by one of my best friends! She knew I needed time away and she needed someone to have fun and relax with because she had her own personal stressful life-shit happening. It was a great time away-a perfect escape for a few days.

One big reason she wanted me there was to help her to open up and let loose. She is interested in a guy, but has been struggling to really let loose and show her fun side. So we had dance parties, nerf gun fights with the guys (roommates and friends), bought dresses and heels and went out one night, and another night-we may have gotten a bit drunk. He said we were very entertaining-so I guess overall we were pretty successful at showing him her “fun” and “sexy” sides.

I haven’t really been getting drunk lately because of the amazing life decisions I make while drunk…buuuut anything for a best friend, right?! 

The night that we got drunk I kept crawling away and hiding in the laundry room every time I embarrassed myself…I’m pretty sure that’s why I still have bruises on my knees? I’m going to say that’s why haha…

BTW-is it just me, or does anyone else just LOVE a floor when they’re drunk? Because when I’m drunk and I look at a floor-I’m just like, “man, that looks like a good floor…I think I’m going to lay on that floor…” then you do it and you’re like, “yass…good decision.” And you just feel so comfy? Because man I love a good comfy floor when I drink. 

…Anyways…in my last post I posted a poem about how girls treat each other shitty. Part of the inspiration for that poem was from that night.

Later on-we were all in the kitchen and all of a sudden I’m up in the air in his arms and he was spinning me around. I.was.terrified. especially since I was drunk. But I knew what seeing that felt like to my friend. I’ve been there-I’ve been the girl who is interested in a guy-feeling shy and insecure around him and then seen a friend getting some attention from him and it sucks. 

Sure enough, she got jealous. And at one point we were both laying on the kitchen floor and she was talking about how her big boobs were probably hanging out of her shirt–to which I replied, “you’re fine! don’t worry about it.” Trying to be reassuring and helpful. Then she (loudly) started making fun of my small boobs…

Now-I’m used to my big-boobed-friends picking on me…but it doesn’t actually bother me because I don’t mind having smaller boobs at all. I’ve never had a guy complain, so…keep ya big boobs-that’s ok with me.

But I knew the reason she was doing it-it was because of feeling jealous of the attention I was getting. So I yelled very dramatically, “stop body shaming me!” and crawled off to the laundry room once more…thankfully-this made her laugh. 

I decided to make it into something kind of funny rather than getting upset-because I’ve been where she is. People suggested to her that she should set me and this guy up and we definitely got along well and there’s just something about being picked up by a guy, ya know? So…if I were in her shoes, I would feel a bit of jealousy as well.

But–why do we turn to putting each other down? Why do we “body-shame” each other? Why are we afraid of just being completely open and honest with each other? Why do we see each other as “threats” and “competition?” Someone can be our very best friend but something can set these feelings off in an instant.

Also-what’s with the “power of suggestion” shit? Ya know what I mean?! I’ll have to post an entire post about that sometime because I’m about to rabbit-trail it right now. I’m fighting hard not to do that. I’m out of my ADHD meds…….and girl-do I feel it. It took me literally ALL day to do a powerpoint presentation yesterday. Seriously…I worked on the presentation (that I had already started the day before, mind you) and had like two paragraphs on a paper left and it literally took me 14 hours to finish all of it. Probably like 10 hours of actually doing work. I did take a walk with my dad, eat some food and use the bathroom several times somewhere between at that. But like, what is this post about even anymore?! 

I just need my brain to work properly, is all.

Stop seeing each other as competition. Stop BEING each other’s competition. Stop talking shit about each other’s bodies. Embrace who you are. Love your body. Love each other. Give each other a break.

I’m thankful that my friendship with her is strong enough that we both know that we can communicate how we are feeling and even if we catch ourselves turning into “those girls,” we stop ourselves and remember who we actually are and that we love each other. She’s also one of my only friends who hasn’t ever said those terrible words that I never want to hear again in my life, “I’m worried you and the decisions you’ve been making.” Thank God for this friend. Honestly-she’s helped to keep me sane over the last few months. When you have a friendship like this–you hang onto that shit. 

Just love each other and communicate! Communication is so hard for me at times and I am working on it a lot right now. I think that is the thing I am learning the most about right now. It is probably one of my least favorite lessons, but it’s a very important one.

Keep it positive, friends. ❤ 

Advertisements

3 thoughts on “What is this post even about?

  1. This is a beautiful post. I’ve been in this position before. I’ve had girl friends call me out on my small chest to make themselves feel and look better. I hate that jealousy and insecurities can turn even the greatest of friends against each other. We have to be able to support each other and lift each other up!

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s