thechicagorose.com

Three Times A Lady.

A few nights ago, my older sister invited me to her co-workers 25th birthday gathering. It ended up being quite the time, as I got the chance to indulge in all of my bad habits. What I liked most about the event was the fact that not everyone knew each other. Each person there had some sort of connection with the birthday girl, but for every two people you knew there were three you didn’t. It made the night fun, and full of laughs. Everyone was on the same playing field; the strange and familiar in equal volumes shoved into a nice sized living room.  

The night was extremely chill; people came and went and I was introduced to a number of characters. One girl, Sade, was newly nineteen. After one cup, she stretched out on the couch, assuring her friends she wasn’t going to sleep. She reminded me of some good times. I felt old, which nearly never happens and I definitely let my brain take a pause in order to best remember the feeling.  

Later, she threw up. 

Let me get to the REAL story….

About mid-way through the party we had really caught a groove. Circle of death was mid-swing, the second blunt was in rotation, and folks were getting silly enough to do embarrassing dances and conduct rap battles. Around this time, a male co-worker (I don’t even know his name. We’ll call him Bob) enters the party alongside his girlfriend. This chick was STUPID pretty! Like, why are you wearing denim shorts, a T-shirt and pigtails looking SOOOOO gorgeous? She was one of those girls who you accept as being prettier than you. She was sweet, so I didn’t even let my mind entertain the idea. She had won. From birth it seemed. Whatever. 

The party goes on smoothly after the couple’s entrance. They head into the kitchen to mix up some drinks and one by one the party makes their way over to introduce themselves to this Girlfriend that hadn’t existed to them before that very moment. 

I didn’t care much. I added her to the running list of people I DIDN’T know in the room.

Blame it on the alcohol, but my sister later chastised me for not being able to feel the tension as soon as the couple entered. Maybe I just thought it was awkward for me because I didn’t know either of them. 

At any rate, it was around the time of the couple’s entrance that some of the early arrivers began leaving. Come to find out, after listening in on a few whispery conversations, the girl who had left just found out she was Girlfriend #2. Yes, the entire party thought, I’ll call her “M”, was in a WHOLE relationship with Bob. Really, dude? The WHOLE PARTY is shocked? 

Scandal! 

This post isn’t about Bob, however. It’s apparent that he doesn’t need anymore shine. 

This post is about, my girl (though, she doesn’t know it), “M”. Way to keep it together. “M” was an absolute lady through the whole thing. She sat on the couch, sipping her wine attempting to maintain normal conversation. I had no clue anything was wrong. She didn’t yell or bitch and, even better, sat quietly while whispers screamed all around her. She left, claiming she was headed out to a club to meet up with friends, though I’m guessing she ended up in a dark corner with a few rows of Oreos already under her belt. 

Poor sweet “M”. 

Two days later and my sister’s phone is in a constant state of unrest. Vibrate after vibrate and each time she looks to me to help her. There is nothing that can be said in a situation like this. He’s not answering her texts or calls. I could’ve guessed. She needs answers. Don’t we all. 

Finally, the New York in “M” comes out strong and she asks if it’s smart to show up at his house. It didn’t sound like she’d show up with a box of tissues and love letters…more like an accelerant and a match. A single match. Real dramatic. 

We advised against it. 

For all my girls who’ve gone to their boyfriends football/basketball games only to find out you’re sitting next to his other girl….

For all my girls who find make-up two shades lighter than them in the bathroom cabinet….

For all my girls who have to deal with the fact that she’s prettier…and has what’s yours…..

For all my girls who ask a random girl at a party who she’s here with only to find out she was invited by your man. They’re dating…

For all my girls who are forced into insecurities (checking cell phones, hacking into Facebook pages) because they’ve never been treated the way they deserved to be treated….

Truth is, there is nothing that can be done when someone puts you on the back burner, when you’re just an option. That is not love. Cry your tears. I’ll give you two good nights. The next day, you get up, look your best and make a conscious effort to feel better about the situation.

Be a lady. 

Christine