Breaking Out — Is leaving HS friends really a bad thing?

Let me preface this by saying that this post is prompted by a facebook photo that I just ran across. The photo belonged to a girl (woman?), with whom I have a mutual friend; she went to my high school and graduated a couple of years before me. I wouldn’t say we’re ‘real’ friends, but I feel justified in looking through her random facebook photo albums…. please, isn’t that what facebook is for? In any case, I found it quite interesting when the majority of her current photos (posted December 2009) were snapshots of her and the same friends she had in high school. Now, I’m all for keeping friendships alive and maintaining bonds, blah, blah, blah, but really? At 26, isn’t it time that you had new friends, too? When 90% of photos are of you and the same people you were friends with at 15, I think it says something. If I had to guess, I would think it says, “I haven’t really grown/changed/advanced much in life and I still hang out with, and find interesting, the same people that I did when I was 14.”

Let me also say: a) I have no problem with this girl — she was actually very spirited and fun, so I’m not saying this out of anger/jealousy/whatever other emotions people associate with scorned women; and b) I also have a handful of friends from high school with whom I maintain friendships. It’s not the maintenance of friendships that I find irksome. I actually think it’s awesome to be able to keep in touch with people from the past and keep those friendships alive. Rather, I think it’s quite awkward when people maintain the exact same group through life without incorporating new individuals and new personalities into the group. Even if I tried to keep in touch with the same group of friends I had in high school, there would only be a select few that I would still share commonalities with. We all grew up and went our separate ways, finding new things that interested us. Some of us pursued higher education, some got married, some joined the military… some even have children. For us to all still find common ground would be a rather unachievable. The things that we find interesting now are so varied. I have no interest in spending three hours talking to my girlfriends about their over-achieving babies nor do I find interest in planning upcoming nuptials. Likewise, I find it highly unlikely that any of my girlfriends want to have a conversation with me about the effects of poverty on HIV/AIDS in sub-Saharan Africa.

Now then, my question is, how does this happen? How do people continue to hang out with the exact same individuals for decades on end when their initial friendship began at such a young age? I understand the concept of adults meeting and maintaining life-long friendships, but it just seems that so much happens from the ages of 15 to 25 (high school graduation, college, college graduation, career choices, moving, marriage, children, etc.) that you really aren’t the same person that you once were. Doesn’t it say something about your growth as a person if your friends haven’t changed? Isn’t it important to meet new people and allow their perspectives on the world to open your eyes to new things?

Maybe it’s just me… maybe it’s late and looking at facebook friends’ random photo albums is unhealthy. Or maybe it really is weird to be BFFs with the kid you met in 9th grade geometry when you’re 26.

Either way, I would love input from people on this… it’s a topic that I find bizarrely fascinating/irksome.

Sleep tight,

Grown-Up Goodies

I recently ran across a blog post by my friend, M., who discussed the finality of divorce and the harsh realities of breakups. M’s post was poignant, well-written and rather thought-provoking. Moreover, it fit well into my life and spoke accurately to the nuances we discover in our relationships as we grow older. The realities of breakups have a double burden for me: I’ve recently gone through [am going through?] one, and a couple very close to my hearts (we’ll call them R. and G.) are going through a … situation, if you will. I hesitate to use the term “divorce” in describing their current status, although it is potentially waffling on the edge of loveless marriage and divorce.

My current situation is one that I can’t really categorize, if I’m being honest with myself. It’s an interesting situation and one that I’m sure could better be discussed on a less public forum. I have decided to discuss it in an open manner, however, knowing (hoping?) that others have gone through situations such as this before. My ex (although his name has been strewn throughout this blog in the past, we will refer to him as ‘Mac’ so as to not have to use his name over and over in this context) and I decided to go our separate ways shortly before my departure for London. Knowing that we would be separated by a 5500 mile flight and an 8-hour time difference, we decided to give ourselves room voluntarily, rather than learn the hard way that long-distance relationships are difficult, if not impossible for types like us. Well, three months later, I find myself still exchanging emails and phone calls with Mac on a daily basis. As one of my London friends so aptly noted, “breaking up didn’t break [us] up.” It’s true. Being that we were such good friends and were effectively part of each other’s families, separating was not a simple task. Breaking up effectively caused us to change our facebook statuses to single and open ourselves up to meeting new people, but it did nothing to hinder our connection. Although I much like having daily conversations with Mac (he has been my best friend for a number of years, after all), I question whether a bond like that is the healthy way to end a relationship [is it better to rip the band-aid off or peel it off slowly?].  Does talking daily lead to an inherent assumption that things will be “back to normal” one day? Additionally, although we’ve both openly discussed the fact that we’re able to date other people, has this connection hindered our abilities to move forward for fear of hurting our “friendship”? If I stepped outside of our situation for a moment, I would likely say yes. Now, you may be asking, “if you and Mac are best friends and clearly love each other, why not just be together?” ‘Tis a valid question, and an answer might be easy to come by if my life weren’t so complex (read: complicated):

I have this ridiculous desire to succeed in life. For me, success is defined by incredible education and the independence derived therein, not by number of babies that I can produce. Unfortunately, there is this career/life dichotomy that’s not easily reconciled in the real world. Typically, one takes precedence over the other. If I choose the career path (the path I’m currently on), the family/relationship component has to fall into place accordingly. If I choose the family/relationship path (the “alternate” path, if you will), then my career will be the component to fall into place. Sadly, I don’t want to have to choose. I  don’t feel that letting my career “fall into place” does justice to the time and effort I have put into my education. On another front, I don’t want to sacrifice a solid relationship and family ties for my career. Seeing as how I have to choose, though, it seems as though my career and prospects have taken precedence. I don’t want to live my life in a limited world that will cause resentment down the road. For this reason, in conjunction with the fact that I’m not entirely sure whether I will be pursuing a PhD or a career that could place me in a foreign country, I feel that staying with Mac does us both an injustice. It’s not fair to keep someone hanging on, not knowing whether or not you’ll ever return. Alternately, it’s not fair for me to return for a relationship and then resent him later on. In conclusion: Why didn’t anyone ever teach us that relationships are so complex?!

After all the hardships involved in my breakup after three years of dating, my thoughts trail back to my friends, R. & G. who are going through a separation after 35 years of marriage. If you’ve been in a long-term relationship, you know how difficult it is to part with someone with whom you share so many memories. When Mac & I broke up, there was the process of moving my stuff out and separating our “assets” (a Wii, Wii fit board, miscellaneous kitchen appliances, etc.) which I found a bit daunting and oddly final. When R. & G. separate [in the future], they’ll have to deal with the real task of dividing assets: a house, cars, money and kids. Not that the kids will be divided, seeing as how they’re grown up, but still… the thought of splitting with someone after so many years is heart-breaking. At what point do you realize that the person you thought was your perfect match is not so perfect anymore? And, upon coming to that realization, how long until you move from the “this isn’t working” stage to the “let’s get divorced” stage? If I’m having problems fully moving on after three years, how do you move on after thirty-five years?! Is it possible to find someone and build a new relationship knowing that no relationship will ever come close the vast amount of time you’ve already spent with this other person?

Through my relationship with Mac, and through looking at R. & G.’s relationship, I have learned something: Relationships can’t be defined as successful only if they end in marriage and happily ever after. Relationships, whether one year or fifty years can be successful in and of themselves, for what they are. My time with Mac was full of amazing memories, incredible adventures and a number of learning experiences. I have learned what is important to me, as a person, and I have learned what I find important in a partner. Whether or not Mac and I get back together in the future, I know that it’s something I can always look back on with a sense of accomplishment. After all, if you could meet Mac, you’d know that putting up with his stubborn ass for three years is quite the feat.

xoxo,

Weddings & Babies… Is Everyone Drinking the Kool-Aid?

Is this where the world is going?

Why is everyone getting married and/or having babies right now? I’m convinced that there’s something in the water that’s causing people to fall in love with the idea of this idealized union and bearing children. Personally, I have never been one that aspired to be a housewife/mom/domestic diva. Rather, I have always planned my life around education, opportunities and ways to further and better myself, as an individual. I’m totally all for meeting your soulmate and having intimate relationships, but it seems that everyone is jumping into this idealized world of marriage to feel more “grown up.” It’s as if somehow getting married and having children is the defining moment of adulthood; if people don’t give you the proper respect at 22 as the adult that you are, then having children (hell… out of wedlock even!) should solidify your place in the world as an officially official adult.

Dumb, I say.

I don’t think having kids in a family setting is dumb, but I do think that having kids to fill something in your own life is dumb. Beyond dumb even. They do realize that the baby that they bear becomes a living, breathing human being that needs attention and love to grown into a full-functioning, productive adult, right?

Do these people realize that a child is forever? Once you birth a baby, you are forever tied to that person. Not just the baby, but the baby’s daddy (or mama). Is that really a situation that you’re ready for? On top of that, you can’t really enjoy your 20s (or teenage years, in extreme cases). Your life becomes intertwined with the child’s (as it should) and you become wholly focused on their well-being and growth. If you don’t become enthralled with that then you probably should have thought twice about getting pregnant to join the cool crowd. At 23 I can’t even fathom having a child and being responsible for another human being, yet I see 18 and 19 year olds pushing strollers around, proud that they have a kid. You’re proud that you got knocked up by your 19-year-old boyfriend who probably won’t be around in 3 years? I mean… really? Am I the only one who thinks that this craze is ridiculous? Having a baby does not make you cool; it makes you a parent. It doesn’t take a special person to make a child — almost anyone can do it. I understand that it takes someone special to be a parent (something I find wholly different than making a baby) and I do know a few awesome young mothers who consciously made the decision with their husbands to start a family. For that, I give you props. I, for one, could not be selfless enough at my age to give up my education and my career options.

My favorite situation, of course, are the super young moms that won’t have an abortion for “religious reasons.” Here’s my question: You can’t have an abortion, but you can have sex with a stranger without protection? How does one pick when and where their religion comes into play? If it’s a moral issue, I understand that, but to use religion as a lame cop out makes me hysterically irate.

This issue has always been one that I could debate for hours on end, but I felt the need to write about it today as I have run into more (and more!) incapable people having children and young, idealists getting married. For the most part, I think that people don’t give marriage the consideration that it deserves. I fully understand that the divorce rate is super high now (55+%) and that it doesn’t face the stigma that it once did, but does that make it okay to go into a marriage with the idea that there’s a back door; a way out via divorce?

Seriously, people. If you have a brain, use it.

That’s my Friday rant! I realize this has nothing to do with travel, but luckily I get to write about what I want. I’m hoping that I’m not the only one that feels this way about this topic!
 
Much love,