I have a friend who is perfect. Really, really, perfect. She has a beautiful baby and a gorgeous husband. Her house is artfully arranged in shabby chic style and she is deliriously happy. We used to work together, and when the baby was born, I sent her a couple of cute babygros and a card. Recently, I have spent a few afternoons round at hers, drinking cups of tea and gossiping. I thought we were close. Maybe not kindred spirits but certainly good friends.
Yesterday, this friend sent me a text reminding me about next Sunday, which was interesting because as far as I knew, next Sun I'm probably doing my usual mundane Sunday routine of Tescos and cleaning the bathroom. I asked J who told me that it is the baby's naming ceremony on Sunday and hadn't I already been invited? She had had her invite weeks ago. It was probably just a mistake, she said, and she texted my perfect friend to ask. The answer came back – a definite no. The text was a group one which she had sent me by accident. Apparently they wanted to keep the event 'small'. Maybe I'm such a large person that the ceremony would be jeopardized by my presence? Actually I'm not that bothered about not being invited, but more that my friend would send me that text and then just point blank say that I absolutely, definitely wasn't invited. It's so different to the way I operate – if I did that I would have to back track and say that of course the social pariah who I had mistakenly invited as well was meant to be coming! And I had just forgotten to send them an invite! Silly Me!
This has shown me that this person isn't perfect after all. In fact, it has shown me that she's socially unaware and doesn't care about the feelings of others. It's quite refreshing to realise this. And to be honest, a baby naming ceremony isn't really my idea of a fun thing to do on a Sunday. Spending the day lying on the sofa reading the BBC Good Food Magazine with a nice cup of tea is in fact preferable. Or colour coding my underwear drawer. Or de-scaling the kettle.
However part of me is, I admit, a little bit put-out. The feeling I have is similar to the one you get when you realise that someone you quite like has de-friended you on Facebook. Or like the one I used to get when no one wanted to play Famous Five with me in primary school (I was always George, obviously.) Logically though, I know I should act my age and not take it personally. I keep saying to myself that it doesn't matter and it's not a reflection on me. It's just because they didn't have space to invite hundreds of people.
But hang on a minute, perhaps they actively don't want me to be there? Me in particular? I can just imagine the line being crossed through my name on the list - if it was ever on there in the first place. What a nasty thought. Maybe the presence of a single 31 year old girl with shrivelled ovaries and a raucous laugh would ruin the happy (but serene) vibe of the occasion. And perhaps my friend is afraid that I might crack onto all the single men there. Maybe she thinks I'd be like the drunk great aunt at the wedding who has one too many gin and tonics and falls into the flower bed at the reception? Maybe I'm actually a really horrible, socially inept person? No, that can't be it...All my friend say I'm a Good Laugh! Maybe that's the problem? Maybe I'm too much fun? Maybe I have to face the fact I'm just not the kind of person who makes a good guest at a baby naming ceremony. Oh dear.
This situation and the fact that I don't even want to go to the ceremony has made me face a couple of things: 1. That this friend isn't that good a friend at all and 2. How different our lives have become. It has also made me consider the kind of person I am and how I operate socially. Sadly, I know that I'm not going to be in contact with this person any more. She has essentially made it impossible for us to be friends or even acquaintances because the next time she sees me she's going to have to mention it. I have a feeling she will try to avoid that kind of situation.
In re-evaluating myself and how I would have behaved had it been the other way around, I have also considered whether I'm feeling bitter because I'm jealous of my perfect friend with the perfect baby, the gorgeous house and her perfect existence. I can honestly say that I'm not. Her life is mapped out forever whereas I feel as if I'm about to start a new adventure, one of my own making. And what could be more perfect than that?
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