Friendship Bracelet
The four years I lived in Austin, I had no real friends.
Sure, everyone knew me. But no one knew me. I was rarely alone; always at an event or hosting something or posting photos with all my 'friends'. But I'd go home each night feeling oddly empty, and not knowing why.
"I finished your bracelet for you," AJ says, wrapping it around my wrist. "I mean, this is how friendship bracelets should go, right?" She tries to tie a knot and fails. She tries again, fails again, and now we're laughing, which only makes her fail more. Finally she secures my bracelet and we hug, a tight hug that lingers the entire drive home.
I've been back in Austin since late December. I'm leaving again soon, but this time has been different. Sure, I had tight hugs last time I lived here. Hugs from men who wanted something more. Hugs from... laughs, men who wanted something more. Okay that's all I can think of. All the other hugs were stiff, cordial, polite.
This time around, there's four different women I give real hugs to. Women who stay up late with me gossiping on our couches. Friends who read my manuscripts and hype me up and tell me that I'm extremely easy to love.
The last time I lived here, I felt like the luckiest girl in the world, so why wasn't I happy? I mean, I knew the most 'interesting people in the world', and I was experiencing things that some normie like me should have never had access to. I thought that was the most valuable thing.
But this plastic bracelet feels like the most expensive thing I own.
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PS: Wait Madi I thought you moved to Substack? Well, my silly goose self accidentally paid for an extra year of Ghost instead of cancelling (bows to applause), yes yes, spectacular fail, so here we are. And you know, Ghost feels more intimate than Substack. This place feels like my diary, and Substack feels like an algorithm. So maybe I'm back to stay?
PPS: I wrote a memoir but I don't know how to talk about it so I'm telling you here. It's about feeling empty and not knowing why. It's about performing for so long you forget there's anything underneath the performance. It's about people who play the game so long you can't tell where the game ends and they begin. I'm currently sending it to a few close friends for feedback- not sure if I'll publish, mostly because I talk about real people and I don't want to get sued (for real tho), so we'll see. I'll let you know if it becomes a real thing. I put so much care into this book. I'm proud of it.
