2020 thus far has been an unforgettable year, though many wish it were not so memorable.
January brought us the shocking news of Kobe Bryant’s death (I literally cried for a week). March sparked the coronavirus wave, while April and May put us in quarantine with 24/7 news coverage of sickness, death, and the fear of our way of life forever changing. Oh, and let’s not forget trying to breathe through these masks.
And in the midst of virtual graduations and drive-by parties, another big event occurred—my 30th birthday.
February brought me many lifelong memories as I celebrated the big 3-0, but similar to all of 2020, it wasn’t without its challenges.
One of my absolute favorite things in this world is to spend time with friends and loved ones. The laughs and jokes, edifying conversations, times when you can just be—I thrive off it all.
So, naturally, the best way for me to celebrate entering a new decade was with women I love. The plan was for my sister and three girlfriends to come into town and have a girlfriends’ weekend in Washington DC. We’d rent an AirBnb, visit the African American Museum, have a birthday brunch with my local girlfriends, and then go out to an R&B Only party in the evening.
And my best friend was gracious enough to help me plan all of this. She helped keep up communication with the ladies, secured the brunch caterer, created a fun game for us all to play, and even alerted me to the fact that DC would be having a Colors: R&B Only party during my brunch weekend.
My bestie is one of the most giving women I know, so it didn’t surprise me how willing she was to help me plan an eventful birthday celebration.
However, her phone call two days before the festivities were set to begin completely caught me off guard.
“I need to tell you something, and I hope you won’t be upset with me,” she began. “But I cannot go with you and the other ladies to the R&B Only party. I should’ve researched it more when we first talked about it, and I know that I am the one who suggested it, but after I watched a few videos from past events, I know that I cannot be in that environment.”
I remember not speaking for a few moments as I listened to my heart sink.
Let me give you some background: Both my friend and I are Christians, and this lifestyle is not something that we take lightly. Although I grew up going to church and have gradually grown closer to Christ, she came to truly know Him as her Savior around the time that we met about six years ago.
Before fully accepting Christ, my friend drank, partied and did everything that typical young people do for fun. Meanwhile, I was always pretty “conservative” although I loved my neo soul and didn’t mind an evening out to a lounge now and then.
As we have both grown, I have noticed changes within my friend and how she was no longer open to certain things (clear evidence of the Holy Spirit’s work in her life).
But, me and my saved self thought that surely she wouldn’t mind a fun night of old school R&B music, especially since I—the person most people knew didn’t club, or listen to “bad” music, drink, or smoke—deemed it okay to attend.
Not only were my assumptions wrong, my understanding was completely off.
“I appreciate you telling me, but I have to admit that I am disappointed,” I finally spoke to her. “I was really hoping it would be a fun night where all of us get dressed up, feel cute, and go have fun in an environment that is just old school R&B. That’s the reason I even considered it and told you about it because when I went once with some friends, I was surprised that although on the outside it would appear to be a club scene, it truly didn’t feel like a typical club atmosphere at all and we had a lot of fun.”
My friend and I have an open relationship where we can discuss offenses, and I appreciated that in the moment because I decided to keep airing my grievances.
“Also, this is really disappointing because I feel like you’re always excluding yourself,” I confessed. “You didn’t hang out with us during my bachelorette party and you were the only one out of the entire wedding party who didn’t hang out with everyone the night of my wedding.”
I knew my frustrations showed as I thought about the patterns and my friend saw them as well.
She apologized if her actions demonstrated to me that she was constantly absent. And then she gave me some insight into just how off-track her lifestyle was before accepting Christ, so triggers were serious for her, and she just wasn’t ready to be in certain environments again.
Although she acknowledged my disappointment and she was also clearly hurt for “letting me down,” my friend stood firm in her convictions. She was not going.
I admit that it wasn’t my immediate reaction, but after I prayed and thought about it for a while, I couldn’t even blame her. Even more, I admired her.
Yes, I was annoyed that it seemed like she couldn’t just “relax” and take one for the team at times. I mean, unless it was something that completely goes against my beliefs, I would fully be there to celebrate my best friend’s big moments.
Then the Holy Spirit pressed a thought into my mind:
Perhaps this is something that does go against her beliefs?
You need to understand that though Christians and friends, you and her have different backgrounds different temptations, and different convictions.
Just because I enjoy old school R&B does not mean it is right or wrong for all Christians. I was okay with doing a pole dancing class for my bachelorette party; my friend wasn’t. Again, that doesn’t mean her feelings about the class were more righteous while mine were less.
The Lord had to show me and my saved self that I do not set the standard for acceptable Christian behavior. There have been many situations where I have chosen to exclude myself, just as my friend, and others where I haven’t.
Everyone’s personal experiences shapes their convictions.
But the Lord showed me an even deeper issue than my temporary “God complex.”
I miss my friend.
And over the years, it hadn’t been very easy for me to accept the new person she had become.
I miss our social justice fierceness, like when we protested together during the Mike Brown case.
I miss her yelling, “That’s my jam!” when “No Diggity” by Blackstreet came on.
I miss her goofy turned up face when she dances.
I miss the girlfriend I once had, and I wanted my friend back.
If you’re reading this and can relate, I want to encourage you to grieve the loss. I never did, and that is why all my frustrations came out at once.
But while grieving what was, don’t forget about what is.
Both my friend and I have changed since we met, and we are in a new chapter of friendship.
I may miss some things about her, but those don’t discount her many wonderful qualities that will never change. Qualities that have blessed us to have a true friendship to this day.
She is still thoughtful.
She is still an intentional listener.
She is still empathetic and compassionate.
And she will always be one of the most giving women I know.