how do i come to that conclusion well for one second put yourself in someone elses shoes, your early on into your first pregnancy and these *mean girls* decide as you are trying to figure out whats going on with your body to seek the help from other girls to find out what they think it could be.. so you ask questions and they decide to start calling you a very rude and immature nickname because of this and three yes THREE years later they are still doing it.
this same girl goes on and months later has marital problems. she is newly married and just dont know what to do .. so she again reaches out for support and opinions on what to do..
and the result are again mean girls who tell her that she is dumb for not loosing her new husband.
now you tell me one person who is married to her husband a man she married because she loves him and wants to grow old with him that will just up and walk out .. ignoring his pleas, his apologies, his promises (empty or not) and just give up and say *fuck you im done*
no one that i know of drops the ball that quick, what makes a marriage is hard work and while everyone has their limits of what they will take, you always try your hardest first without just *giving up*
years later when the marriage unfortunately falls apart, you have this tossed in your face and these same mean girls attacking you at one of the lowest times in your life.
do they not have an ounce of compassion? understanding? feelings? what about a simple heart? that would help wouldnt it?
a YEAR after the final blow up occurs and people part ways, it is still brought up. did this girl leave that much of a lasting impression?
when i decided to walk out of the situation completely.. take my bow and walk away from the cliques, the drama and most of all the mean girls.. i knew i would be their next target.. its a trend, a habit of theirs .. and so i took care of what i needed to.. deleted, blocked, walked away etc..
and yet still this year later, names are trashed.. tongues thrash the rude comments, the names are called..
i did not ever ask for an apology .. neither did my friend .. i did not seek anyone out .. neither did my friend, my friend however was sought out.. and while i will say it *i think an apology should come from the heart not from reading a book* my friend is more forgiving i suppose than i am.
but i have no room in my life for drama and bullshit and i know the cliques and the mean girls only bring that.
and as much as i would love to say what sounds like a bunch of mean kids picking on one that they see as *weaker* even if this person has more heart, more soul, more strength than all of them combined.. they attack because they see this person as weak because she isnt backed up by the clique... i would love to say these are mere children ..
but than i think about my own kids and i wonder.. at what age would i expect my child to act like that and the answer is never.. never in a million years would i allow my child to think that they are better than anyone else, more deserving of anything than anyone else..
in life we are all equal.. we bleed the same color blood, we all feel pain, hurt, joy, laughter etc..
but sadly these mean girls are adults, yes ADULTS .. women .. women who have children, women who all came together seeking the same exact thing, a place where they could chat, meet new people, find understanding, compassion, build friendships, etc
my hope for them is they never face walking in the same shoes as the girl who they have torn down time and time again. the girl who as much as THREE YEARS later they still feel the need to hurt.
i wish they could answer me one question.. *what joys do you feel by doing the things you do to people? does this make you feel like a bigger better person? honestly does it? to hurt someone, to tear them down, to kick them when their life is falling apart around them? what joy does this bring you?*
thankfully my friend is a survivor, her life is full .. she has jumped every hurdle tossed in front of her and while her roller coaster is far from over she takes each day as they come.
