Friday, April 9, 2010

TRUTH: sisters are sometimes created, not born of blood...

I am a pre Sex and the City woman. Meaning, I missed the original broadcast of this phenomenon because I was too cheap to pay for HBO and was too busy out drinking and kissing strangers in the dark. I am now a mother of three beautiful children who can no fathom the idea of their mother partying the night away; mascara smudged around her glazed eyes, stumbling around at dawn collecting discarded pieces of clothing in order to make it back home to prepare for work, only to do it all over again that night. 


There was a time when I used to refer to these as "the good old days".  Night after night filled with  great adventure, laughter and true friendship as we set out on a quest of loud music, sweaty dancing and ice cold beverages...Most of this close knit group were boys that I filled my life with brotherly love. Through the years, some of these would cross over to become lovers in moments of liquor induced frenzy, but ironically,  for whatever reason,  the friendships meant more to us and that is what has endured over the years and it is the group memories that remain clear in my mind, the moonlight  interludes but a fuzzy recollection in the midst of the chaotic times. Twenty years later we have grown apart, scattered throughout the nation and most of us have begun families of our own. I wonder if they think back to these times and have the same sweet memories. Some of these people have popped in and out of my life with some regularity, some I have only reconnected with through the amazing technology and invention of the internet mega hit, Facebook. Either way, I am happy of these reminders of my youth, no matter how many choices were made out of insecurity, self-loathing and plain old bad judgement, I know that this is a part of growing up, experiences that I cherish, lessons that sometimes had to be learned the hard way, but learned all the same. I miss them and wish them well. 



Today, at nearly forty, which to my delight I'm told is the new thirty, I have had the opportunity through DVD technology to have watched said iconic show and must admit to my chagrin,  for better or worse, I have been changed because of it. I wonder to myself if I would have been effected as much had I been a voyeur to these snippets of metropolitan mayhem and sexual awakenings the first time around in my twenties.


Perhaps I would have put less pressure on myself to go out and find that husband and instead, find that unique sense of self worth in my earlier years, ala Samantha.  I'm sure I would have a more polished wardrobe, extending beyond my daily uniform of khaki pants and t-shirts, a matching cardigan sweater thrown on top when I need to "dress it up." Maybe I would have set out to have a high powered career and found success and empowerment in the corporate world like Miranda. If I am honest with myself ,most likely I would be ... and am... a pared down version of the doe eyed optimist Charlotte,  dreaming of the perfect existence in the suburbs. 


In interviews they always claim that it was and is an ensemble show, but who are they kidding? It was ultimately all about Carrie. Carrie's wardrobe... Carrie's career as a writer ... Carrie's love affairs... Carrie's friends. Perhaps it's because if you think about it, Carrie is the ultimate fantasy character. Every  woman who is a fan of the show wishes she was the Carrie in her group of friends...while in reality I believe we all have a part of Carrie in us,  our distinct desire to be loved, to be accepted and to feel whole in a world filled with miss- understanding, miss communication and everyday mishaps of what is called life.


I must admit here that while I am an entertainment junkie and open minded enough to watch most anything, even the sometimes down right vulgar mishaps of these made up characters; you need not have watched a single complete episode to understand the true desire and gift of sisterhood and conditional love that was ultimately was the basis the show.


I am blessed. I have found my own clan of incredible women who fill my life with mishaps, laughter and shoulder's to cry on. Throughout my writing, you will hear about many of them.  Each one unique in their own way, perfect in what I need in my life to complete what I often refer to as "the inner circle". We come from all different backgrounds and experiences. And while from an outside view, we may all appear the same, busy mother's of young children...take the kids away, add a bottle of wine and a tray of snacks and our true colors come out, the true essence of the women we were, the women we are, the women we strive to become. I long for the times when we can find the time in our hectic schedules to get together and that I can leave my "Mom" title at the door and reclaim my "girlfriend" status. I know they all feel the same. 


I know these women have my back. They have shown in through the years by their actions, but their kind words, by their open ears, by their loving compassionate hearts that allow me to struggle on. In return, they have my eternal gratitude, my respect, my love. Not a day goes by that I don't think to myself, "how lucky am I?" Should I want for something more...my cup is filled to the brim with love and laughter and all I need to do is ask for more, and it will be provided. 


I have finally found peace in this desire. There is no Sex, though we do like to talk and giggle about it. There is no City, we live in a small midwest town, but the essence of it all is here and now and on my part, will remain forever.... 






As an adoptee, it is in my blood and in my being to not only desire, but to crave on an almost animalistic level the need for  connection... family ....sisterhood of sorts...... I have finally found "home".

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