I have this amazing group of lady-friends, a group of friends which has developed over a few years, and a group unlike any other that I’ve had in my adult life.  We talk about our husbands, our kids, and when we should stop wiping our children’s bums (our answer: at least by age eighteen).  We offer advice, support each other’s ambitions, go out to Indian Buffet lunch in Jackson Heights, and have convergences at our homes pretty regularly. Our dynamic has been conspicuously drama-free, with no in-fighting or trash talking or the like.  While this may not seem very remarkable on the face of it, in my experience, it is significant.  I’ve not had many girl friends in my lifetime who consistently support me, or with whom I’ve not had to wrangle through miscommunications, hurt feelings, or outright mean-spiritedness.  This could point to me and the effect I have on people I’d prefer not to think so.  Instead, I see it as us women-folk being having the propensity to be mean to each other.  And that just sucks.

I’m as guilty as anyone.  There are moms all around me that I don’t bother saying “hello” to, even though I see them every day, in the neighborhood and the playground.  They probably think I’m unfriendly and unapproachable, and I think the same thing of them, with nothing to base that on.  Embarrassingly, there are a few people with whom I’ve had history with that remain estranged, years later.  It all smacks of High School to me, and that “Mean Girl” stereotype that I want no association with.

Read the rest at Pistols and Popcorn.