Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Differentiation

I wonder if we differentiate from our friends. In a child's development, as they move into and through adolescence, it's "normal" to begin to differentiate from family. The teen begins to develop their own life outside of the family home; there's rebellion about the structure, values, beliefs within the family home. The teen develops a new circle of importance, and that's the friends. In many teen lives, the friends become the most important social group; more important, even than the family.

Ultimately, the teen becomes a young adult. And in previous history (I'm not so sure this is as true anymore), the young adult would meet a life partner. You know the story - fall in love, get married, begin a family. This process would, generally speaking, allow the individual to begin to differentiate from their friends in the same way that they did with their family of origin. The mate, the new home, the children begin to hold the most important point within the circle.

For many people, however, this story is no longer true. Many people are waiting much longer to marry, or choosing not to marry at all. It leaves me wondering if this delays the process of differentiation from friends. It seems likely that those individuals (and I count myself as one of them) continue to rely on their friends in the same manner that the adolescent does. The friends remain the most important part of the circle; their opinions and engagement in activities maintains its import to the individual.

At mid-life, I am beginning to recognize this in my own self. How important my friends are. And this becomes more obvious to me as I realize that I do not hold the same position in their lives. That's not to say that I'm not important or loved - I am! This is related to my earlier question about "couple cliquedom" (my own word). The couple is an entity unto itself. There is very little space within the couple for the single friend. That's as it should be. But, being the single friend in mid-life, I've come to realize that a differentiation is necessary. I realize that it's necessary to run my own life as I see fit, with less reliance on those friends around me, and more reliance on my own self.

I've heard it said that in peri-menopause we repeat many of the emotions that we experienced in adolescence (something to look forward to girls!). Perhaps, the joyful part of this is that I get to repair the mistakes made by choosing different paths.

Monday, April 7, 2008

The Coupledom Clique

I've been noticing, lately, how I'm not part of a "couple". Obviously, for those that know me, this isn't something new. But what I've become increasingly aware of is how there is a "clique" around being a couple.

I have many friends - long time friends, new friends, friends from my spiritual community, friends from work, friends from school. Most of these (but not all) are women friends. My friends love to go out for tea with me, or dinner. They like to get together to talk about matters of the heart and spiritual matters. They want to share stories about their love interests, partners, kids, work. I love this about them.

But something strange happens when it comes to their partners. I'm no longer part of the picture. Now, this isn't me being paranoid - I brought it up recently with a group of other single women. We were all in agreement that we do not get invited to "couple events". It's a curious syndrome, really. When my girlfriends are intending to get together with friends with their lovers, then they invite other people who have lovers/partners/husbands. They don't invite their single friends to join them.

I don't know if this is a "numbers" issue. Is it more harmonic to have even numbers when inviting people over for dinner? Is it more soothing to the flow of conversation if there are equal numbers of men and women? Is it uncomfortable for the twosome to become a threesome?

These are questions that I don't have the answers for. But it does leave me wondering if I shouldn't be in a relationship just so I can become part of the club. I think I might be missing out on certain secrets. Perhaps I will buy a blow up doll, or mannequin and then I could become part of a couple. My own quiet date....

Thursday, April 3, 2008

My cousin died yesterday. It was sad, as the death of most young people is. He had cancer; was only diagnosed ten months ago. At the end he was in a coma in the hospital for the last couple of weeks. Although a painful process that one would never want to wish on anyone, I was reminded of the pregnancy process. When a woman becomes pregnant, there are nine months of preparing for the birth of a baby. During that time, not only does the woman's body change, but so does her attitude and her readiness to actually have a baby join her life. A death process allows the family time to grieve; to say good-bye; and then to let go when necessary. After a few weeks the family is (usually) ready to allow their loved one's suffering to end. The family members are able to whisper into the ear of their dying one "it's okay to go now, let go".

My cousin told his partner that he didn't want a funeral. This decision is confusing to me. A funeral is not for the person who has died; a funeral is for the family and friends that are left behind. The funeral brings people together for a last celebration of the deceased. It makes room to publicly grieve and celebrate at the same time. A funeral adds closure to an already very difficult process. It announces the moment when the death process ends and the next stage of grieving can now commence. Without some ritual around death, people can be left in the liminal stage of the death process; they might find it difficult to actually move on.

Tomorrow we're having a non-funeral funeral. We will gather at the funeral home - close friends and family - for a "viewing". Some people will say some words. And then we'll meet to share food. The ham that wasn't cooked at Easter because cancer had taken control of the house. I'm grateful for my cousin's partner's good common sense and compassion.