"I love my friends" is a simple-enough statement. I've written it too many times in elementary-school essays on "What I Am Thankful For," tucked in among "mommy" and "shoes," probably. But still, over 10 years later--I still love my friends.
How did I, a girl from a family that almost negatively-values education, diversity, acceptance, differences--end up with such a wild group of girls (and a few boys)?
If I were someone other than myself, which is less of a constant-wish now than in the past [but still a wish] , I would not be my friend. It feels like a constant art project--molding myself into a girl I'd like to be friends with, but I do have friends (great friends) just the same. And they are wonderful.
A church was filled with them, a few years ago, a surprising school-holiday that helped to break me out of a haze of isolation. Before that, these laughing, pretty girls would spend birthdays with me in hotel pools and saunas and mall-days. We've all learned so much, but I feel like I might have learned the most.
I have learned new-school Southern-ness [and taken from it what I like], kindness, ambition, acceptance. I've gotten most of my music from friends and, I like to think, have given that , at least, as well as I've got. In my group, we are witty, intelligent, sassy, and we dream the biggest dreams possible. I never could've gotten here on my own.
Dan Weiss’s Morning Coffee
1 hour ago