Ya Gotta Have Friends
In the recent novel Mrs. Fletcher, the lead character is a single mom in her forties, a first-time empty nester, who launches a quest of self-discovery. Among other places, her journey takes her to the local community college where she enrolls in a feminist studies class taught by a transgender professor named Margo Fairchild.
The two women form a bond over drinks after class. At one point, Margo, who transitioned in her forties, laments the fact that she missed out on the period of youthful bonding where lasting female friendships are formed, and wonders if she will every be able to catch up.
As a woman who publicly transitioned in her fifty-eighty year, I can say with joy and gratitude I’m not facing that problem.
I’ve enjoyed a few solid male friendships through the years, and I’m grateful those men who are still part of my life, but I’ve always formed bonds much more quickly, and far more easily, with women. I’ve forged great friendships with a number of them, and so many of those relationships have ripened and deepened in the months since I publicly became Claire. So many more great women have become part of my circle, too.
What distinguishes female friendships? In my experience, a deeper level of sharing and emotional support.
I once read an interview with a male breast cancer survivor who said while he wouldn’t have chosen the disease, the time he spent in treatment with women was amazing. He said they talked about genuine things, not farting and fishing and football.
One of the secrets of being a good girlfriend, I’m learning, is being a good listener. I remind myself not to offer advice unless I’m asked for it. The old me had the annoying male trait of jumping in to immediately try to fix things. It’s great if you can offer a solution, but sometimes you just need to listen. I’ve had a couple of women tell me they felt so much better after being able to unburden themselves to me. I feel the same way when I turn to one of my girlfriends.
I recently received some really bad news concerning the health of someone very dear to me…I called one of my besties and vented to her. She listened, she provided validation, I cried, and we also laughed together. Isn’t that what being a woman…what being a caring human being…is about?
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Category: Transgender Body & Soul, Transgender Opinion