” Whoever gossips to you will gossip about you.” -Spanish proverb
Girlfriends are great to have. You do each other’s make-up, go to the restroom together and if
you are close enough your periods come within days of each other. Girlfriends are there for you to hold your hands when your boyfriend, Tyrone, breaks up with you for a prettier girl. Girlfriends are there to hold your hair back while you throw up because you had too many shots of tequila.
Most importantly, they are a great source of information. They know who is going to be at every party that you attend, what color compliments your skin the best and who is screwing who.
This information seems so imperative until you are being gossiped about…
I fell in love with *Tracey the first day that I saw her. She was beautiful, stylish and knew the ins and outs of my new duties as a clerk. I used to see her in high school a lot but I didn’t find myself cool enough to hang out with her. I knew that if I had ever gotten a chance to be in her inner circle I was going to jump as high as I needed to to be chosen.
You can only imagine the joy I felt when I was asked to join her at a night club the following weekend. Though I was excited to be in her presence, I knew that the clothes that I had in my closet would not be proper for the scene.
When I relayed my dilemma to her, she just laughed and took me to go shopping for a new outfit. The new outfit evolved to make-up, new hair and a mani-pedi.
Oh yes! I was Tracey’s new loyal subject. No one (besides my mom) had ever taken such interest in my appearance. I had bitten the bait of being attractive and accepted (Jones-itis is a hell of a disease)
After our night out Tracey and I were inseparable. She was always at my house hanging out and shooting the breeze. She would tell me her troubles with her boyfriend and his family. She would disclose unpleasant details of mistreatment and betrayal that she had endured from her soon-to-be in-laws making me very protective of her when she would leave to go to those wretched people. Over the course of a year we became so close that people mistook us for sisters.
Then one day she vanished, leaving me with questions of “What did I do wrong?”
About three years past without hide nor hair of Tracey, until one day she showed up at my door step needing a friend. I was so elated because at that time I needed a friend also.
We started right where we left off: make-overs, parties and gossip.
I didn’t have much to gossip about because I had become more of a home body than I was three years prior, but Tracey had the best stories with so much juice, you would need a saucer to catch the overflow. All I could really offer to the mill was introducing Tracey to my former hairstylist *Chyna, who is a gossip Thoroughbred due to her occupation.
Everything was moving smoothly until I met *Michael, a new and exciting love interest who was sans drama and mind games. I instantly grew smitten and started getting very cozy with the gentleman. I was very happy, but Tracey was not!
One day Tracey disappeared again, but this time I went to look for her. I called Chyna and asked had she seen Tracey.
“I’m coming over to pay you a visit.” Chyna responded.
When Chyna arrived, I was unprepared for what had transpired in the weeks Tracey and I had been apart. Not only did Tracey dislike my new lover she felt like I had abandoned our friendship.
When I discovered these things, I instantly went inside of my self to understand how I could betray my friend in such a manner. I tried to send her a Facebook message, but she had blocked me as a friend. I spiraled into the abyss of sadness and my relationship with Michael began to strain.
Months later, Tracey returned leaving a note in my door asking me to give her a call. But this time, something peculiar happened during our separation, as I began to look within myself I also started to analyze our friendship. One question that resounded was: “If we had a problem, why didn’t she come and talk to me first?”
Then the light went off!
Throughout our friendship, Tracey had shown me her true essence. The things that Tracey would tell me about others, she NEVER admitted them to her adversaries. She would talk about them harshly but would invite them to her house every weekend for a cook-out. She pretended that everything was F.I.N.E and that she was so happy to have them over, but both Tracey and I knew that she didn’t like them.
It was cool when Tracey treated others like that, but when that stiletto was on the other foot I was like “Oh hellllll no Bobby Brown!”
No matter how loyal we are to our gossiping companions, we are not above being their next hot topic!
But you ain’t hear that from me.
(*names have been changed)