Mom Yesterday I had coffee with a friend I met at one of my dozen or so jobs I have had in the past decade. We had not seen one another since my long period of sadness, loss and grief. 90 minutes after spending time in Stephanie’s company, I felt like my old self again! The striking similarities between our menopausal experiences and ultimate arrival at the liberating “I do not care anymore” stage of womanhood made me feel more connected to life than I have in months. Literally, Stephanie, you brought me back to life! That’s the wonderful thing about friendship: to find in another person a real sense of comfort and familiarity that lasts over time is the greatest gift.
This morning, still bolstered by the sisterhood of laughing with Stephanie, I am reminded of my special friends in the pediatric rehabilitation program I worked in for a couple of years. “B,” with his sweet and dedicated Occupational Therapist, worked on this drawing depicting the distance between himself and me. The day they gave this to me I knew I would laminate it and keep it forever. Those friendships with children with disabilities and their caregivers/therapists are among the most sacred I have ever known in my life. I think I became delighted with “B” from day one because he looked me soulfully in the eyes and always made it clear he was completely contented just to be near me. No distance between us.
I have realized that I am one of those “Gen X” girls with ADHD who was never diagnosed. I have stumbled through life feeling ashamed of my lack of organizational and time management skills, and have often felt humiliatingly confused by “hidden cues” people give in the social-emotional realm. For example, I had a friend I thought I connected with beautifully, only to discover she had been “growing tired of” me for months and ultimately took to her social media to proudly declare to her followers that she had recently “downgraded someone from friend to acquaintance” without ever speaking to them (ME!). I reeled from confusion, shame, anger and utter disbelief from this experience for more than a year. Because I have ADHD, I do not let go of things as easily as “neurotypicals” so this hurt cut me deeply in ways that surprised me. After practicing a lot of lovingkindness (from the great meditation teacher Sharon Salzberg), I am learning to separate experiences from my feelings about them and thereby release shame I often feel for “not getting the point” as soon as neurotypical people!
Then there is sweet “B” and darling Stephanie who validated every experience we talked about over coffee. I have felt so alone in the middle believing there were no friends who would be willing to meet me there. “B” even graphically depicted his willingness to meet me all the way at my doorstep. And no “complicated cues” or backstabbing social media posts, just presence and contented kinship. “B” could teach a lot of people about friendship, and maybe this is the writing opportunity I have been looking for.
For now, I am grateful for the moments of authentic recognition and respect I share with my friends. As far as my “downgraded acquaintance status,” as stinging as those words were spoken by someone I cared for and trusted, I am happy to report that you can downgrade me, baby, but you will never find me downcast. I am too busy laughing with “B,” Stephanie and the handful of kind souls in my life. Friends are a blessing to enjoy, not a puzzle or conundrum to sort out.
Love, my beautiful little undiagnosed but lovable ADHD heart
Cheeky Street 