Susan and I had been friends since kindergarten. Her grades were always just little bit better than mine which meant I was often compared to her. When we learned cursive in 3rd grade, her penmanship rivaled our teacher’s! I’d even call it “cute”–that’s how good it was. Like all the rest of my friends, she took tap and ballet after school. She was a Brownie and then a Girl Scout.
I never did any of those things. When I got home from school, I’d borrow my neighbor’s Irish Setter, Bay, and we’d jump over poles I’d set up in the field, pretending we were horses. I played in the woods behind our house building bridges across the creek and catching tadpoles and minnows. Tuesdays I went to my riding lesson.
Despite being into very different things we were still the best of friends until the end of 8th grade. Things changed when we both had a crush on Ken, a tall, good looking baseball player with a great smile.
After so many years of friendship, Susan was, in my opinion, being *ridiculously* flirty with him. The way she laughed at everything he said and feigned offense made her look foolish. “Oh, Ken! Stop!” she’d say in a fake-sounding high-pitched voice. She’d cut her eyes to the side and give a little half-smile.
I rolled my eyes as I sat nearby, dignified, poised, and the very essence of class, waiting for him to notice *me.*
Not only was I peeved that she was making a fool of herself, but I was also hurt because she was pretty much ignoring me. All she ever talked about was Ken this and Ken that. Were *we* even friends anymore?
I decided she needed to hear the truth so I wrote her a note that I recall began with, “You’re being a bitch…”
By lunchtime, everyone hated me.
Fear of not being seen made me go from too small to too big too fast and torched my relationship with one of my best friends. I had no idea how to ask for what I needed. Were you even allowed to do that? Aren’t you just friends, and that’s that? The lesson I learned from this experience was that if I took up space, relationships broke.
I know now that the real issue was *how* I took up that space, but that story lived in my body for a long time. Learning how to change it has been a fascinating and empowering journey.
Who knew that by paying attention to the sensations in my body in particular positions would make such a huge difference.
I have a new felt sense of the space I take up now. Sometimes it’s still too much or too little, but my practice is to better at calibrating it so that I fill up all of my space *and* allow others to fill theirs.
To fully occupy my space and allow others to occupy theirs feels like love to me.
