I met Kathleen when I was twenty-two. It was at a nonprofit for at-risk youth, which is now defunct. It was a toxic workplace where people worked for ages and had given up hope of making it better. I was hired as a Day Treatment counselor and not trained at all. Yes, they expected a 22-year-eld, fresh out of college, to counsel juvenile delinquents (my nickname for them because they were all kids who had been arrested for something) without any training. I was only four or five years older than our oldest students (we were considered a school as well), which was not good for my position of authority. One of my students even told me he had a girlfriend my age. It was an uncomfortable moment.
Kathleen was the administrative assistant, and I noticed two things about her: her flaming red curls and the tattoo on her wrist. During the yearly luncheon, we sat next to each other and chatted. I already knew I didn’t fit in with my other colleagues for several reasons. One woman was heavily made-up and very critical of me for not wearing make-up. She once said that I needed lotion for my scabby elbows and that I would be a good makeover candidate. I didn’t tell her that I didn’t want to look like a painted doll the way she did, but I surely thought something much less kind than that about her.
All the other people were married with kids and beaten down by the job. Except one man who pushed and questioned authority, but he turned out to be a wife abuser. The one guy I really liked was pushed out for being a Christian. And the director sat at his desk playing computer games all day while the kids didn’t have a computer. I was getting paid $18,000, which is outrageous even for the time and my experience. I didn’t know better, though. Also, once I got hired, the lead counselor in the Day Treatment program sloughed off the daily activity calendar to me. Meaning I had to schedule activities for the kids every day. That was NEVER in the job description. He was a deeply narcissistic and lazy man who ‘delegated’ everything he could. I shared an office with him and my contempt for him grew daily. He spent most of his time reading People magazine and chatting with anyone who would talk to him. He liked the young white girls and assigned them to himself while fobbing the toughest boys onto our Christian coworker.
Who, by the way, I did not agree with on nearly anything, but I liked him heads better than anyone else in the place save Kathleen. He was hardworking and did anything he was asked to do. I remember one time, we were on a field trip and the van got a flat tire. The lead counselor called for a backup and when it came, shepherded everyone onto it, leaving our other colleague behind to change the tire. I felt bad for him and stayed with him.
During that luncheon, Kathleen and I got to talking. And she started calling me outside of work to hang out. I thought (and still think) she’s the coolest woman I had ever met, and I was gobsmacked that she wanted to be friends with me. I was a hot mess, riddled with deep depression and anxiety. I could not understand why someone who was so amazing would want to be friends with me.
About a year after we met (and when I left the nonprofit), she asked me if I wanted her to call me and ask me to get together. she said she didn’t mind doing it, but she had to know it was something I wanted. I was stunned that she even had to ask, but I managed to stutter out a yes. And it helped me realize that my actions (or inactions) had an impact on the people around me.
At that time, I thought I was worthless and that the world would be better off without me. The fact that she made it clear that she wanted me in her life made it harder for me to tell myself that particular lie. Not that I didn’t try and not that my depression didn’t get the better of me at times, but she was there–my touchstone, holding me down. I’ve often called her the yang to my yin, and she’s my joy-bringer. The person who’s always enthusiastic and supportive, no matter what harebrained idea I bring to her.
Yet, she was always ready to hit me with the hard love, too. If I was doing something stupid, she would point it out gently and compassionately, but she would not let it slide. I trust her with everything–including my life. I know where I stand with her, and she knows the same about me. I’ve joked that we’re going to end up in the same old folks’ home, and we’re going to heckle the other inmates. One of us will be blind and one of us will be deaf, but together, we’ll be a terror.
We’re the type of friends who, it doesn’t matter how long it’s been, will click the second we talk again. We’re honest with each other about how we’re feeling, and we vent to each other in a way we wouldn’t with anyone else.
I was shook when she moved to Philly five or so years ago. Even though we only talked every month or so and went out every few months, the fact that she was only fifteen minutes away from me sustained me. Theoretically, I could see her at any time, which was all I needed. We still talk every few months, but it’s been a hot second since I’ve seen her. I was planning on going to Philly for the second time for Halloween of 2020, but then a little thing called a pandemic got in the way.
I was crushed because there was a special Haunted House that I wanted to see as well, which was made from a converted prison. It’s well-known, but it got shut down during the pandemic. It’s back, but in a much scaled-down capacity, sadly. I still wouldn’t mind going to it, but it’s not the same.
There are so many things I appreciate about her. Her kind spirit and her positivity are two main ones. But I also appreciate her willingness to fight for what she believes in. She does not suffer fools gladly, which helps me with my own boundary-setting. Plus, we can talk about anything, from books to politics, to love. From that first conversation to our phone call last night, we can talk forever and never run out of things to say. Her child–who is going off to college this month! My medical trauma, our respective cities and families, and so much more.
Kathleen is my oldest friend and someone I know will be there for me no matter what. We hold the same views on every important issue with the differences just being shades of gray. I can tell her anything and know that she will judge appropriately–and I do the same for her. She’s a true lifelong friend, and I am so glad she’s in my life.
Since that time you almost died, your entries are so full of appreciation. I love them. ?
Thank you so much, Sepideh! I feel so much gratitude to still be alive that I want to share it with everyone!