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I can remember the first time I saw my husband.
I was 19 and part way through my first training shift as a waitress in a local cocktail bar and restaurant. Carl, 22, was a chef. As I stood at a till with another new girl I caught sight of him through the kitchen hatch. He was tall, blonde and handsome, dressed in whites and wearing a baseball cap to cover his hair.
It wasn't exactly love at first sight, but I can remember nudging the other waitress beside me to bring the attractive chef to her attention. 'I saw him first' I whispered with a grin on my face.
Just as the chef behind the counter eventually became my boyfriend and later my husband, the other waitress at the till that day became my best friend.
Over the course of that summer the friendship developed out of stressful work shifts and drunken nights out. We went shopping together, spending our tips faster than we earned them on clothes to wear dancing each weekend. We nursed hangovers with food from the restaurant, and sat nestled in one of the booths at the back as we chain smoked between mouthfuls.?
I remember we talked a lot. About boys mostly. We shared every detail of our love life with each other that summer, and analysed it all with great precision. There was my fling with the smiley Irish barman, and her dalliances with another. There was much talk of ex-boyfriends. Was it wise to see them again? Could we ever 'just be friends'?
We weighed up the pros and cons of relationships, comforted each other when things turned sour, and offered words of support when arguments raged and everything began to crumble. ?
When, under a year later, I found myself leaving the home of the chef I'd lusted after for so long, having finally secured the elusive first kiss, I reached for my mobile and dialled my friend's number.
'You'll never guess where I just woke up.'?
'NO!'
'Yup.'
'Tell me EVERYTHING'.
My patient friend rode the waves of my fledgling relationship with Carl. She celebrated the triumphs {'He wants to spend Valentines night together... and I'm sure he almost said I love you the other day'} and held my hand through the darker times {'We broke up. Maybe for good, I don't know. Can we just get drunk? Whatever you do, don't let me text him.'}.
When I fell pregnant unexpectedly the summer after Carl and I got together, my friend knew before he did. She came with me to my first scan and helped me compose the letter that would eventually break the life-changing news to Carl.
The point is, she knew as much about my relationship as I did. And I hers. We confided in each other, shared the good stuff and the bad about the men in our lives. It wasn't, as any episode of Sex and the City would have you believe, all about dissecting their performance in the bedroom either. It was about helping each other find our way through the maze that is life, love and relationships.
Maybe it's part of growing up. Maybe it's about being in a 'serious' relationship. Maybe it's engagements, or marriage, or kids, or owning a home. Whatever it is, almost ten years later, we don't talk anymore. Well, not like we used to.
Surely growing up and getting married doesn't negate the need to share these things with our friends? I may have a ring on my finger, but there are still arguments. Carl still leaves me baffled at times. There are occasions when I don't know what to do and working at our relationship seems overwhelming. It's just that these days, I rarely say these things out loud.
I don't think it's just me either. I'd venture a lot of women leave behind the breathless conversations about their latest love with other the remnants of their single life because they believe they are no longer needed once they've 'settled down'.
Moving in with someone, getting engaged or saying 'I do' can all be considered very public declarations regarding the status of a relationship. Perhaps, once these have been made, women are afraid to potentially risk undermining the image they've created through these choices. Are we all just 'keeping up appearances'? Can we only share the good times?
Do women stop confiding in each other once a relationship reaches a certain point? And if they do, who is supporting them and helping them through the tough times? Are we supposed to just suffer in silence? Does marriage mean you can't tell people when things at home are, well... rubbish?
Or am I totally off base? Is everyone else still staying up all night, talking to their girlfriends about their innermost thoughts and feelings?!
Franky
Source: http://www.lovemydress.net/blog/2012/09/marriage-friendshiop.html
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