by Morgan De Groot 8 days ago in family

My phoenix moment


Today I logged on to see if any updates from a previous challenge posted. Still learning this site, I came across this challenge and froze.

I felt outcasted, denied a chance to be apart of a “group”. The wounds had re-opened, and I wouldn’t be able to stop my soul from bleeding; or seeping out into the abyss of time, emptiness, self sadness, and possibly hate. Not hate towards others, but a self loathing I have towards myself. Regrettably, more times than I should.

I could pretend and say “my best friend is myself”. Just as cliche as the expression “live, love, laugh”; sold on wooden boards. The one that hangs above a bed, doorway, or whatever, typical sanctuary entrance to hell some feel it best fit. Please do not think I am mocking, I just find it ironic, that phrase. It reminds me of a “how to be human” mantra. Yet, perhaps, we forget we are humans, and need that boastful, self loving plank. I apologize, I disgressed. The board is basic. There! I said it!

This challenge, however isn’t. Once I hit submit, I felt I would be admitting Some self truth’s I locked away; finally admitting to myself that I was a fool with friendships. Loss and gain. To think, it all came together, and hit me like a ton of bricks.

Friendships, are moments. Some moments are stronger than others, the kind you can close your eyes to, and your back to that place you met. Or it’s a song that brings you back to the little road trips, and adventures of your life. Highways that act like the veins to your heart. A nickname, smell, taste, or any type of stimulant that reminds you of a moment lost in time, a “better” time.

Some friendships are chapters. Long, needing of cliff notes, or short and bitter. I wonder, are friendships solely between two people, or multiple? Can it be with pets, if so, than I have many. I can go on for ages about how they “saved me”, “accepted me”, and “loved me” for the perfectly imperfect person I am.

Yet, maybe we need to ask ourselves how we measure up as a friend, before we can write about what we consider a “friendship” is. The person, or people who may read this, ask yourself “are you a ride or die person?” Really think about it, if so, carry on. If not, why? what do you look for in others, that you may personally lack? What idea of a person do you have that makes them your “best” friend. Out of the whole pack of individuals you know, what qualities in that person do you see, that trumps the rest?

Friendships, are almost like little verbal contracts. Promises made when the dopamine you feel being around that person is high. Friendships, are also a depressive low, when the value of that “friendship” that “contract” you signed with your soul vanishes.

How lucky are the few, that can write about their best friend. The ones they still have. For all I felt I could do was write about the one I lost. The one that life, society, and growing up took. Even though, for a moment I felt bitter, I can still hear my grandmother say “Friends are like diamonds, precious and rare; false friends are like autumn leaves, found everywhere.”

My realization is this. Trying to scramble to find a “friend” I could truly write about- I stumbled upon three. While, I have not been lucky to find that “forever” friend just yet, the one that isn’t your family; and I will admit, in the beginning stages of a few... I realized, just how lucky I have been this whole time.

My best friend or best “friends” are my three older sisters. Garrace (slightly dorky, smart, quiet, listens), Whitney (sweet,witty, smart, genuine) and Meridith (firey, smart, kick-butt then take names) mix. Each one are, kind, generous, caring, and make sacrifices. Whether for me, family, a stranger, or for the world. My sisters have broken the glass ceiling in many areas of their jobs.. all are successful women now, who work hard, but love harder.

The reason I say my sisters are “ride or die”; is simple. They are that mantra. While I was growing up, they were there. I wasn’t alone. They taught me things, showed me things, played with me, helped me have an imagination that exceeds past any horizon...

They also, almost gave up their future success for me. I was molested as a small child. Not anyone’s fault. Not theirs, or my parents; but they took it as a sign, or “cross” to carry because they thought they “failed.”

Each one, was willing to give up going away to college, to be home, for me. Just in case I was ready to talk about it, or to protect me, and love me. To remind me, I was still perfect enough to complete the set of four. Like a dish set. I watched each one go to college. I saw what possibilities could be for me with them being brave to carry on. If they stayed, we would be stuck in what that “monster” created when he molested me. Them leaving, showed me that life continues. That better things will come, better chances, better moments, better memory making adventures.

My sisters made me who I am. They made me strong, firy, dorky, witty, smart, kind, genuine; and fearless against the world. They helped shape me into a person that has no judgement. We may argue, and bust each other’s chops really well; but as they say “hell hath no fury like a woman scorned?”... Well, hell would not be prepared if someone came between us, hurt one of us, or challenge one of us.

My sisters are and will forever be my best friends. For they gave me pieces of themselves to become the person I am meant to be, and potentially become. The ashes of their past, made me the Phoenix that rose for hers.

Morgan De Groot
Morgan De Groot
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Morgan De Groot

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