The streets are buzzing.
It has come to my knowledge that Lisa read my earlier blog post. She’ll be okay.
There are a number of screenshots, group chats, and text messages circulating about me, some positive, some not so positive. I even saw an indirect Facebook status about me. I can’t get mad.
Nothing exists if you didn’t tag me.
In everything I write, there is great meaning and deeper purpose. I’m unashamed of my words because they’re all truthful. I penned an essay about Lisa and my truth. If you’re tuning in for the first time, here’s your chance to catch up before I provide spoilers.
What happened to Lisa happened to me too because I was there. For fifteen years, I was there for her. And when I was physically absent for her pain, it wasn’t because I didn’t love her, instead, I was battling with my own mess two hours away. Mess that she never knew about because she never asked.
As I mentioned before, college was ugly and traumatic at times, but by the grace of God, I survived. There were some things that I shared with Lisa, and others, I kept to myself. Subconsciously, I knew she didn’t care. Our friendship lasted as long as it did because we had history from our childhood. Once we became adults, our problems were different. We were different.
When I expressed my struggles to her, she shrugged them off or simply remained silent.
“In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.” – Martin Luther King, Jr.
As for me, I always showed and spoke up for her when no one else would.
Which is what brings me to part two of this story.
Once her relationship with Jake ended, Lisa played the field. I feared that she had not received proper closure or healed from Jake’s manipulation. When she started dating I explicitly told her, “Lisa, the ho life isn’t for you. Know your limits.”
Lisa was catching up with men and I was on a break from them.
After we turned 25, I felt myself slowing down. At this time I was exploring new career options and getting serious about my purpose in life. Lisa was slowing down too, she found the man of her dreams.
Lisa called me in Charlotte to ask when I was coming home to visit my family. It just so happened I was coming that weekend. She invited me out to dinner for a “big surprise.” I thought she was going to give me some money or something. She was balling, I was not.
She stretched her hand across the table and said, “I’m getting married!”.
My mind said, “Again?” while my mouth said, “Omg, congrats!”.
Yet again, Lisa asked me to be her maid of honor. I’d love to tell you all about her fiance, but to this day, I don’t know him very well. All I knew was he couldn’t possibly be as bad as Jake. Is anyone as bad as Jake? Yes, I met this guy a few times but we never connected. Ever.
Lisa would later reveal to me that the new guy never liked me.
Exclusive image of me trying to detect a reason for me to care about this man and his opinions of me.
In the words of a great street philosopher, “Light nigga, dark nigga, faux nigga, real nigga. Rich nigga, poor nigga, house nigga, field nigga. Still nigga.” From his condescending looks, I could tell from day one where I stood with him. Soon, she stood right beside him.
In August of 2014, Ferguson, MO went up in flames after the unjust shooting of Mike Brown. People showed their true colors on social media, just as they did when President Obama was elected and when Trayvon Martin was killed. Lisa was no different. Remember when Lisa was moving in with Jake? We were also at the end of the Bush era and witnessing a transition of power to President Obama.
I’ll never forget the day when President Obama won his first election. Never in my life had I felt a greater sense of pride and beauty for my black culture. Lisa was the first person to text me her thoughts on the election. She sent me an image of Obama, with a scripture from Revelations and a quote stating that he was the anti-Christ. My friend actually thought a black man in the White House meant God was on the way back.
How did I respond? I sent a link to this song.
Me currently getting my life to this bop!
At the time I didn’t think anything about it. America elected its first black president and she felt threatened enough to text her “best friend” insane propaganda. She couldn’t steal my joy because I knew things would never be the same. And if you look at the world around you, we lived the greatest eight years in modern history. Her unconscious bias for people of color was soon to be awakened.
Then came Ferguson.
Lisa took to Facebook mocking the citizens and expressing her frustration about the riots. In her statuses, I could tell she was trying her best not to write “niggers” and “blacks”, hell, I’m sure she wanted to call them “colored.” Had she been anyone else, I would’ve read her for filth. I felt torn. For a moment I asked myself, “Is Lisa racist?”. Nah…not my Lisa.
At this point, I had already accepted a second maid of honor request for her second engagement and I didn’t feel strong enough to back out, although we were clearly split regarding political and social issues. While I didn’t know much about the new guy, I could see that he slowly tainted her humanity.
I watched as they, along with their buddies, ridiculed the turmoil in a thread of vile comments on Facebook. He appeared as a white nationalist and she his princess, agreeing with his every breath.
I called my real best friend up and asked if she saw the mess that Lisa was writing on Facebook and she said, “Yeah I saw it. Why are you still in her wedding?”.
Me on the other end..
Never had I once considered Lisa to be racist or prejudice. Of course, she’s not racist, but yes, she is the latter.
A few months later, Beyonce delivered another magical Super Bowl performance.
If you recall, Beyonce rattled the All Lives Matter crowd (Lisa’s fiance) with the release of “Formation”. And she slayed in true Bey fashion at SB50.
On this day, I became a Beyonce stan. I took to Facebook, just as everyone else, marveling about Bey’s beauty, and precision.
Lisa did not like that. I realized Lisa does not like seeing anyone exude happiness that is not her own. She’s never been denied an opportunity because of the color of her skin. She’s never been treated like a second-class citizen because of the color of her skin. She’s never known what it’s like to endure micro/macroaggressions because of the color of her skin. Because lacks these experiences, she does not believe anyone could ever be marginalized in America.
How I imagined Lisa reacting to Bey’s performance, her background dancers in afros, and my Facebook posts.
Lisa called me upset about my Facebook post to give me a piece of her mind about my behavior and Beyonce’s performance. Here are a few of her talking points.
Lisa told me, “Racism is over. This isn’t the 1950s.”
Lisa told me, “I love you but you’ve become an angry person.”
Lisa told me, “You are so beautiful but I just think you have low self-esteem by all of the ‘black girl’ posts that you share on Facebook.”
Lastly, Lisa told me, “You’re too wrapped up in social media. The things you call racism don’t happen in real life. I grew up in a trailer park and made something of myself, race has nothing to do with it.”
I let her finish and then my verbal daggers came out.
Long story short, I told Lisa that she only likes me when I’m on her level. Seeing marginalized communities rejoice baffles her. I gave Lisa a lesson on privilege and presented every reason why women of color deserve long overdue praise. I assured Lisa that my blackness would not diminish her existence as a white woman in this world. Then came her tears. She actually cried and I went harder.
“Cry all you want, but you’re not getting off that easy. I pay this phone bill. You call me with mess, now you’re going to listen,” I said to Lisa in a supercharged tone.
Lisa said, “You think you’re better than me.” I responded, “How I feel about me has nothing to do with you. This has nothing to do with Beyonce, my Facebook posts or my blackness, you are just an insecure person and upset that no one is paying you any attention.”
Dear friends, I was TIRED.
Finally, we got to the core of it. It never occured to Lisa that women of color are entitled to equal pay, equal praise, and equal peace as their peers. You see, we both grew up in rural South Carolina, but our worlds were vastly different. I was raised to work, “Twice as hard to get half as much.” She was raised to, “Work hard and the world is yours.” It never occured to her that we lived under separate standers. I was her only black friend growing up. Dear friends, as her black friend, it was not my job to teach her about cultural sensititivy intersectional feminism, and all the other buzz words for racial equality.
As I type, it’s refreshing to know that none of my other non-black friends take issue with my cultural affirmations. Lisa was big mad.
At the end of this racially charged call, Lisa and I both apologized and ended the call with “I love you.” If we’re being honest here, our friendship died on this day never to go back to the way things were. I was extremely frustrated and wanted so badly to cancel my part in her wedding. I didn’t want to deal with the drama, so I went through with it.
On her wedding day, I stood at Lisa’s side with a huge smile on my face. The smile was geninue happiness and the only expression that I could register due to the fact that this tight ass dress was cutting off all oxygen from my breasts all the way down to my fallopian tubes. I stood there thinking about our fight, how much I hated my makeup, and how bad I wanted to take this dress off, I also reflected on the mess that Lisa had endured in the last fifteen years. She’d been through some mess, however, I did not feel as though she was ready for marriage….not with this guy anyways. Lisa had gone to marriage counseling both before and after the wedding, with the new fiance, apparently, she was serious about making this one work.
I made this face when the preacher asked for the rings.
Once they said, “I do,” I took a sigh of relief. Finally, I survived two maid of honor requests from the same girl.
Dear friends, this is only the beginning of what I can freely share with you.
When my friends get married, I give them space to get adjusted to their new lives meaning I cut back on my phone calls and texts. A few weeks passed since Lisa’s wedding. Christmas time came, and we exchanged “Merry Christmas!” texts. After the new year, my personal life was literally on fire. Another day, another blog. While I was trying to figure things out, I called Lisa….no answer. I commented on her Facebook posts…no answer. Things went mute. Where the hell was Lisa? I didn’t care to find out.
I ended all efforts to maintain this 15 year friendship.
That summer, a mutual friend told me to check on Lisa. She couldn’t say what happened, but she felt as though I needed to call Lisa and find out for myself. So you mean to tell me Lisa is talking to everyone else except me? Okay fam. I feared something bad had happened, however, I still had this IDAF spirit that had fallen upon me. I called Lisa and she rushed me off the phone.
When we were younger, I would’ve automatically assumed that I did something wrong and tried my best to get back in her good graces.
I’m too grown to chase people.
Lisa had finally found her fairytale romance, therefore, Tyler was dismissed from her duties as friend and confidant. She finally kicked her stepping stool to the side.
In July of that year, Lisa called and invited me to dinner to tell me that her marriage had ended. The same table where we sat for her to deliver the news of her engagement would be the same space where she reported the news of her divorce. The reason why she hadn’t spoken to me in so long was due to the fact that she was sorting out the details of her separation. Understandable. I didn’t feel bad for her because just like Jake, I knew from jump street this guy wasn’t the prince charming that she had painted in her head. I ended one engagement, I was not about to be the single bitch trying to give relationship advice. Even though I was right…again.
We met up once more for drinks, and like the dummy that I am, I offered up myself to spend more time with her and be there to help her heal from the breakup. She accepted my warmth, however, it was short-lived.
Dear friends, that would be the last time I saw Lisa.
I text her to set up lunch after that, she accepted, then backed out. There were a few other times that we were supposed to meet and she flaked. She watches my Instagram stories every day but hasn’t spoken to me in almost two years.
I left Lisa in 2016.
Here we are at the end. My 30th birthday is seven months away and I cannot endure another decade of one-sided relationships. I showed up for Lisa time after time, but she couldn’t reciprocate my actions. It’s not because she was a bad person or didn’t value our friendship, she just took an interest in matters of her own heart..not mine.
I was curious at one point as to why Lisa walked away from me. Was she embarrassed about her failed marriage? Did she think I would ridicule her? Was Lisa ready to start her new life and leave me behind? I’ll never know. She did share with me a harsh truth. I thought back to our Super Bowl argument where Lisa said, “Tyler you are mean. You use words against people when you have nothing else. What do you get from being so mean to people?”.
While she said this to me in the heat of the moment, it took one year for her message to hit me like a ton of bricks.
Lisa was right, I do say mean things when I feel backed into a corner.
God put Lisa in my life to teach me about the power of the tongue and how words can change the trajectory of one’s life. I challenged her like no other and in the end, her resentment won. For fifteen years we were the worst of friends. She was neglectful and I was verbally abusive in what I disguised as tough love. People get tired of you. And will leave you. Lisa left me.
She left me with nothing but love and respect for the people who shower me with love day in and day out, not once taking me for granted. Her absence made my heart grow fond of the strong relationships that I have cultivated over the years.
But dear friends, before I end this story, please be mindful of who you allow to chip away at your existence. Each friendship carries distinct boundaries and stipulations different from the next. The line is drawn at the edge of your love and respect for one another. Once it’s crossed, you are responsible for handling your friend accordingly. No matter how good of a friend you may think you are, you are never required to carry the weight of another person’s desolation.
I don’t care if you’ve been friends for five years or five minutes, your friends should enhance you, not reduce you. Everything and everyone has an expiration date. Just like milk, you better recognize when friendships are spoiled.
You see, I did not write about Lisa to laugh at her expense or to tell the world about her struggles. Taylor Swift built a career on failed relationships, why can’t I?
If we’re being honest, I only told you five percent of Lisa’s life story. She is more than two 1,500 word blogs. Lisa isn’t the first friend that I have written about, and she won’t be the last. People are my muse. Our strange behavioral patterns and where we fall in the universe shape everyday narratives. I write about the people who have shaped me into the woman I am today…Just ask Dexter. You can throw away pics, delete contacts, or remove a Facebook friend, but memories have a tendency to replay even when you try to turn them off.
As the title states, “Being Her Maid of Honor Cost Me a 15 Year Friendship.” In a way, it did. Aside from our character flaws and difference of opinions, I know now that Lisa only asked me to be her maid of honor out of convenience. She did not value me or our friendship, instead, she was happy that someone was there to entertain her messy love life. I was her black prize.
I should’ve been a better friend and suggested Lisa seek therapy the moment I noticed her repeated self-destruction. Instead, I gave her bandages for the wounds while she picked at the scabs. We are equally responsible in this. Dear friends, I urge you to locate the Lisa, guy or girl, in your life and purge them immediately. Those who have no value for their own safety or sanity are not strong enough to carry you when you need them most.
To Lisa, my life did not matter. The end.