I am often heard stating, “I am not for everyone.” I fully understand the implication of those words. I believe, fully, that I am not for everyone. It is all good.
We cannot be a person who is or who tries to fit into everyone’s world view and their boxes, we are good just to find our own journey this lifetime.
Recently, I have been kicked off of two girl islands.
Girl Island One was a group of women who I really identified with and believed in the integrity of their words and their solidarity. They were all in my age range and a little older, we would on occasion do fun things together. Something went awry, there was a communication glitch in the human system and I got tired of trying to figure out what I had done.
One of the “gal pals” had alerted another gal pal on the island, about something I posted on Facebook. They said, it was possibly, about them.
Break down that previous sentence. Let it sit there and think about it. I did, and I realized, “ain’t no one got time for that.”
How is it that drama happens with women over fifty?
I still try to fandom this, haven’t we seen, heard, and dealt with enough shit to know that we must uplift one another not relegate one another to the margins.
A disruption in the force happened, and I confronted the issue with those who would have possibly alerted the “gal pal.” As my Facebook posts are not about specific people, they are however about experiences.
Guess what happened, yeah, you guessed it.
A bunch of grown women, no one claimed responsibility.
No one stepped up to say, “hey, I’m sorry I did say this to her, and I was mistaken.” Nope. I got a lot of “I don’t do drama and this isn’t about me.” Great. Not helpful.
So, instead of actually resolving the situation, I was actually booted off this island. I no longer get comments on my Facebook from them, they no longer invite me to their dinners or informal get togethers.
In essence, I was ghosted.
I was ghosted by women above the age of fifty. And it hurt, it hurt like a motherfucker.
I don’t do duplicity in my life, being in recovery I am brought to the standard to live a life of rigorous honesty, and trust me, that can hurt too. I never meant to “shame or blame” I actually wanted to resolve and recover what I felt was going to be lost.
I am the first to admit when I fuck up, that has never been an issue for me. I work to amend the situation and hope that there is room to move forward.
I have found out, when you’re ghosted there is no room. (Whomp Whomp)
As the universe would have it, it was lost. I was booted off of girl island number one.
Girl Island Number Two.
Another group of amazing women I have had the privilege of sharing a life and chaos with there was yet another miscommunication. I was promptly unfriended and no one would share what had happened. When one of the ladies reached out to tell me, I was aghast as the reason for it, was not the truth.
I wrote to the one who de-friended, offered my apology and what had happened. In truth, technology and the web failed. I shared what had happened and have yet to hear back.
Both of these instances were filled with the requisite drama and misunderstanding of communication in the 21st Century.
This group is still a part of my sphere, but minimized because, see above, it hurts like a motherfucker to be misunderstood and ghosted when you have no reason why that would happen. Another glitch in the fabric of the force.
I share this not so graceful part of my life, because feven as a grown woman, I get hurt and I have to get up, dust off, and get back in the corral of chaos we call life.
A friend in recovery pointed out, when these things happen we must look at ourselves as being the common denominator. I did, I brought it up to my sponsor, shared the instances and the FB messages, so that with the eyes and heart of another, I could make sure I didn’t owe an amend and that if I did, I made sure it would be done.
I shared this with my therapist also, you know cover all the bases. I am honest that way.
I feel that I have to be completely transparent in my life, so when, not if, these things I have a way to get back and find my inner peace. See, rigorous honesty.
We all have dealings with people we care about and sometimes it goes completely sideways.
In these instances, both my sponsor and my therapist agreed, I had done well, not reacted and reached out appropriately. What others do with those words and that reaching out, it’s up to them.
I have to keep my side of the street clean all the time. In instances like these, it would be so easy for someone in early or even late recovery to go back out, as sometimes the pain is too much, it feels too much, it hurts too much, it is isolating.
I have found that setting appropriate boundaries, not believing the cliches that people share with you in these instances and finding your way through the mess, the letting go, and the re-emergence requires, time, effort and work.
There is a time for cocooning when you are ghosted, or moved from and not to, you go inside, for me I find nature and work to connect with those who do connect with me, not to uplift my ego, or to seek some form of presence that they are not responsible for, but to remind me that we are all connected.
The duplicity with life is that many will tell you, to your face how we’re all connected, and how we must all uplift one another, and share our joys, sorrows, and triumphs with one another, but sometimes that is not the reality.
The truth can be, people can be jealous, fearful, hurt, or any number of things and instead of reaching out to ask you if this is the case, to help heal the hurt, the reaction is to “protect” by creating sometimes more hurt and confusion.
At almost fifty and tooling in my own swell of menopause and sappiness and heartache, I don’t have time to always work with the drama of others.
I forgive, pray and move forward in my meditation and on my mat.
I may not be a super spiritual person all the time ( I curse, a lot) I am however each day brought to my awareness to be kind, kinder than is often necessary. To reach out, and show up where I can.
I am a woman from the west coast, steeped in the traditions of collaboration and collectives. I will continue those traditions in my life, as they are precious.
If I get kicked off more islands, I’m good with it.
As I said at the beginning, “I’m not for everyone.”
Please share your experience in the comments, so we may dialogue our healing and our lives together in collaboration!