Fact and Fiction
Home sick, so you get another piece of my unpublished book. Enjoy, and I’ll be back when I don’t feel so crappy.
I went through a lot of friends in grade school, jumping from one best friend to another. It felt abnormal and dirty to have so many different groups of friends, one for each year of school, like I was shameful for not having one bestest friend forever and ever, like the girls in my books. In the absence of adult guidance, my books were the best I had for learning how to be a friend.
In my books, Nancy always had George and Bess, who would turn up even when Nancy was traveling without them. Trixie always had Honey, and when Honey was not just down the street, you’d think Trixie had no other friends, the way she moped around the house. Little surprise that I thought this was what friendship was supposed to be. Little surprise that I felt hurt and rejected when I left on vacation and my friends didn’t mope around the house, like Trixie, waiting for me to return. It was pleasing enough that books kept me quiet and out of trouble, and my family was so proud that I read so happily and well, no-one ever thought to discuss the content that I was reading with me. The difference between real life and fiction, I was left to figure out for myself.
How to play along
Because safety is a core value for me, I am asking that comments in this space avoid all the ugly things: shame, blame, judgement. I am asking that disagreement and discussion be polite, respectful, generous, and open to vulnerability.
Because community is healthy behavior, I welcome you to comment, to share your thoughts and responses and discuss this with empathy with me and with each other.