Jetlag! It’s 3:21 in the morning and I’m awake. I really tried hard not to be, but as usual when I’m awake at this time of the night, ideas won’t stop jumping into my head. And this time – instead of writing myself a little note and trying harder to go back to sleep – I decided to be gutsy and do something that I had wanted to do for quite a while: create my own WordPress homepage (remember Amy, when I asked you how that works?).
Having just come home from Australia yesterday afternoon I had originally planned to write about my travels, to give people that are interested in what I’m doing a chance to deliberately follow or not follow what I’m up to instead of “trashing” every contact’s social media platform with photos that might or might not tell the truth. And at this point I’m just realising that the previous information would rather be placed in ‘About’, so I’ll stop here chattering about my intentions.
Back to jetlag: I always feel funny when I come home from a trip alone, without the distraction of interaction with a person that is close to me. When I’m alone with my impressions, perceptions and feelings.
This time was very interesting, the neighbours greeted me with a heart warming joy, I had lots of Christmas mail from friends, relatives, clients and companies I work with, I’m looking forward to meeting a friend for lunch tomorrow – so everything feels like I’ve got a home here in Switzerland.
And yet often it feels, that there is an important thing missing. Something, that I find difficult to create in a place where I haven’t grown up, where I didn’t go to school and where I didn’t grow together with the people along the path of my life: the strong binding of girls friendships.
The kind of friendship when you can pop in at each others place mostly at any time and spend four hours that feel like 30 minutes. The kind of friendship in which you know how many boys the other one has kissed (and which was good and which was awful). The kind of friendship in which you crack of laughter when you dwell in memories together, remembering the highs and the struggles and knowing that through both your friendship carried you and made the experience to the memory it has become.
Fortunately enough I know truely beautiful women, girls like that, with whom I share those things. All along my way I met not many, but yet a handful of girls that I love dearly, with whom there are no boundries when we talk, with whom I know that we can express everything to one another, share giggles, laughters and tears.
Sadly – all of them live between 250 kms and 750 kms away and don’t know each other.
When I feel like catching up with friends, a few men that I’ve met in the last seven years since I’ve lived here come into my mind. And no, not guys that I dated or had a romantic feelings for, just genuinely good characters that came into life either through my job or looking for information when I started with my own practice or just simply on a hiking trip or skiing. And I treasure those friends and value the input and exchange that arises by discussing matters with my opposite gender.
But back to the headline: What makes a girls friendship? How does one connect with women that one hasn’t shared that part of life in which one is bound to the place where one grows up? Bound to the birthday parties organiesed by the parents. To the stability and limitations that preformed groups such as school classes provide?
I’m a bit scared of publishing this text, because the answer(s) might seem so obvious to people reading this text – if they get this far… But I’ve witnessed from the outside circles of girls friendships, experiencing the feeling of wanting to be part of such a community and yet wondering about how the internal structures work. Questioning myself, am I not suitable? Questioning the girls, are they all honest which each other, what brings and holds them together? Is it more a deliberate choice or more a convenient necessity? Or am I simply overthinking this?
Feedback is anytime welcome (though the idea of honest feedback both pleases and scares me a little).
Thoughts on life 