The Politics of Friendship: Frenemies
“You’ve got to know when to hold ’em and when to fold ’em”
Politics is a game. At times, a bloody chess match filled with calculated moves and discretely executed strategies. To further mix the metaphor, a “successful” politician never shows her hand, always wears a smile, and is friends with everyone, even people she can’t stand. Everyone gets a smile and a hug. And everyone is a potential donor, constituent, advocate, or volunteer. The more I internalize this definition of a politician, the more I am convinced that I will not neatly fit into the political world I desire so much.
Which is why I never did understand this concept of the “frenemy.” A frenemy is a person you hang out with, shop with, talk to, smile at, hug and even kiss on both cheeks like the French do, all the while hoping she’ll get her stiletto stuck in a crack in the sidewalk and fall and break her ankle.
Nope. Don’t understand it.
I wear my heart on my sleeve. If I’m angry, someone will hear about it; if I’m sad, I cry; if I’m happy, I smile. There is no guessing what I’m thinking, I will gladly let you know. I’m not huge on discretion because I honestly feel like both I and my readers can learn from my mishaps and be better for it, and avoid them in the future. That’s just me. And I really like me. (I’m smiling as I write this. (See? Right there on my sleeve)).
Which brings me to friendship. I admit that I have held overly idealistic standards for my friends which, of course, they cannot meet, and neither can I. Irrespective of that fact, I would often be disappointed with their failing to meet those unrealistic standards, and that would further complicate what could be a resolvable situation. It took awhile, but I eventually replaced those ridiculous standards with realistic ones. Not that I’ve become pessimistic and anticipate the worst of them, but I am much more prepared for the reality that we all do hurtful things to each other —whether intentionally or otherwise—and that through communication, those hurtful things can be rectified. Indeed, a true friend would (1) hear you out, (2) address your concerns by having an adult conversation with you about it, and (3) find a way to move forward.
Well, one would think. So, what’s a girl to do when the other party refuses to communicate, let alone address your concerns in a mature and compassionate way? Of course, it’s difficult to hear that someone has a problem with your behavior, and it is even more difficult to have higher than a Palinesque level of introspection and say, “hey, my friend just told me I did something to hurt her. Maybe I should look at what I’ve done to see where things went wrong.” Yes, it’s difficult to do this, but here’s what: life gets a little tough after the age of 5.
So, in dealing with a person who refuses to communicate when you have a problem with her, you are left at a crossroads. You can either (a) ditch the person for good with the understanding that anytime in the future you had any similar concern with her behavior you would only be met with a self-righteous “how dare you question my behavior”; or you can (b) never mention any problem you have with her because you know that if you do you would only be met with a self-righteous “how dare you question my behavior.” Although the first option sucks because there might be a good person under all that self-righteousness, I’m just not the type to hold my tongue if I have a problem that I would like addressed. I don’t smile when I’m not happy, and I’m certainly not going to continue having conversations with you and all the while be stewing about something I’m upset with you for. That’s way too much stress, and it takes entirely too much energy to pretend with someone. I don’t play those kind of politics.
And with a real friend, I shouldn’t have to. So I won’t.
That’s just me.