I have always been the kind of girl who had a wide variety of friends, and a million “acquaintances.” But as far as human relationships go, the ones that truly matter to me are the true, deep, close people in my life I could always count on. Quality over quantity is far more important to me. Male, or femaie - it doesn’t really matter. I have both. And these people have become my surrogate family.
Truth be told, I have always had easier friendships with men. One even made me the best man in his wedding (yes, I got to wear a dress.) Perhaps it’s because I’ve spent the majority of my adult life in work environments largely dominated with male populations. I’ve found there to be far less drama, and we are able to share in a way that we both feel like we are learning something from the opposite gender’s point of view. It probably also helps that I don’t offend easily and can easily slip into their conversations about “guy stuff” without missing a beat.
But the women I connect to are incredibly special to me. I wrote of the “Real Housewives of Andover” a week ago, and tonight I will focus on one in particular, who has become family. There is a second, and I will focus on her another night.
I write of Zoe because tonight I am in her wonderful home in New Hampshire, where she and her family have continued to welcome my daughters and I, despite the fact that we are missing a part of the equation that used to make us a family of 8. She also has two daughters. We bonded nearly five years ago, and immediately connected on a ridiculous variety of topics. And, as is often rare with couples, her husband and E became just as close as the two of us did. From that point on, we celebrated holidays together. Vacationed together. Enjoyed birthdays together. Shared life together.
With my parents in Florida, and my brother and his family in LA, Zoe and her family became my surrogate family. She is my emergency contact. She is who I called when I had a cancer scare two months ago. She is the person I cried to when my heart was broken and I spoke to no one else.
And when E and I split, one of my biggest fears wasn’t what would happen to me long term or if I would meet someone else someday. It was “what the hell will happen to our family?” The self-created family. One of its members was now gone, and the family dynamic was on tilt. And yet, magically, this family has not wavered.
Things are different for me in Andover. I’m not invited to the the couples dinners anymore, or other events I used to be included in when I was with E. But that’s ok. Zoe and her husband have continued to have us to their home to celebrate. And to hang out. And to just be there. Just like family would.
And this weekend, as we hang in North Conway and hit the Red Parka Pub as we have done so many times before, I am feeling exceptionally grateful for this friendship; this family. Her children provide “cousins” to my kids as neither of us have that nearby with our “real” relatives. Her husband cracks me up like no other man I know, and he watches out for me like a sister. I adore him. And while I still have never called on him to help me with anything around my house, I know he’d be here in two minutes flat if I ever needed anything. I’m so grateful and comforted by that.
She is the Thelma to my Louise, and makes me feel like I will always have someone who’s got my back, no matter what. We push each other, encourage each other, and have made promises about what we will not let ourselves become when we hit our parents ages. To have a few good friends in life is an extraordinary gift. To have found a sister is an absolute blessing. And I have two. More on Julia on a different night.
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