I loved a woman who was younger than me and thin. We were friends in person, and then we didn’t see each other for a long time. But we txted, sent mail to one another, and talked on the phone. We became closer over the years.
I treasured her–I met her halfway, or more than halfway. I worked hard to be there for her, considering her social differences. She was difficult to befriend, but she was very worth it. Her quirks were intense, and I did a lot to show up for her.
She was like the most delicious food in the world, but hard to make. Or a very powerful medicine that’s treacherous to find. Or the most beautiful warm springs in the world that’s hard to hike to.
thin
I mention that she was thin because I think we looked funny, walking down the street together. My spouse and I went to visit her, and we stayed in a hotel near her home for about four nights. Walking down the street with her, I wanted to hold her hand. I thought maybe to strangers, we looked like a strange pair.
I’m very fat–doctors call me “morbidly obese” and shame me. She’s eating disordered long term–doctors call her “dangerously thin” and shame her too. I’m sorry for both of us. We are unconditionally valid, and the violence we’ve both endured about our bodies has lasting trauma for us.
Her other best friend was someone she met in treatment–that bestie was thin, like her. I burned with jealousy, that they shared a trait I’ll never understand.
longing
I longed for her. When I visited, I hoped we would have sex. I was happy to show up and see what would unfold. But I cried, that we shared these long cuddly hugs, she called me lover, and we were very close. But her sexuality wasn’t open to me.
“I don’t have sex with other people,” she said. She masturbated alone–she learned how from a book.
I suggested we have a slow relationship. What if we just held hands for a year or two? Then kissing for a year or more. And then to sex much later, if we felt like it.
We never held hands. My spouse and I moved farther away, to another state. My friend’s harm ocd got really bad, and I couldn’t talk to her anymore.
Then a mutual “friend” used me as a pawn in a negotiation without my permission. I’m afraid that destroyed any possibility of us ever being in contact again.
questions for discussion
Was my friend asexual? If she had used that term, would I have better accepted she didn’t want me the way I wanted her?
How does unbalanced sexual desire affect friendships? In my life, is lack of balance always destructive? (I think so–yeah.)
Did I sacrifice myself too much for this friend? In my attempts to meet her needs, I worked very hard, and sometimes it was difficult to remember her many unusual preferences.
Is she still alive? Is she still identifying as a cis woman? She never seemed very womanish to me. Many queer lady friends from my youth aren’t ladies anymore.
Is my friend autistic like me? If we had that term at the time, for our social differences and sensory needs, that might have helped us.
Does she remember me?
Would she have wanted me, if I was also thin?
