Friendship in and of itself can be difficult. Then we throw in the attempts to blend with family friends, friend’s friends, and finally our partner’s or girlfriend’s friends. This requires an open mind, light footed maneuvering and sometimes, tolerance and compassion.

Meeting new people can feel very similar to an important job interview. The questions being fired one after the other, “So, what do you do?”— “How old did you say you were?”— “Oh, your partner, and how old is she?” Then, I watch their unsure, quivering smiles of confusion as they begin to count the years that exist between my age and my partner’s.  I politely wait for the bamboo beads of the abacus to come to a halt.

All in all we have had a smooth blending of lives and friendships, however there are the occasional friends of Georgia’s that offer me that higher-toned voice of sweet condescension only suitable for a child.  After nearly 3 decades on this planet, I hardly qualify any longer for the singsong voices that once were music to my ears in childhood.  Thank you.

I try to accept the patronizing comments with a sweet smile and move on. It’s the least I can do.  Georgia has an extra hurdle of approval, and one in which I couldn’t even imagine the scrutiny: my identical twin sister, Becks.  This keeps my perspective more attune to a wide angle lens rather than the macro lens I seem to prefer in my moments of self pity. Granted, my sister isn’t hard to please. The pressure of “fitting in” is enough tension to cause discomfort in varying events and situations. Add into the mix gaining the approval of my first partner in life: my twin—and it must be intimidating.  My sister and Georgia, however, agree on one thing: they both want to see me happy and loved.

I just wish that Georgia’s friends and I could also find some common ground that would consider Georgia’s happiness a priority.

With all the chances to prove myself an affable person as the wife of a beloved woman in our community, I attempt to fulfill the order.  However, sometimes I am weary of the obstacle course laid out before me.  Dodging the judgmental eye, the passive aggressive comments, the covert gossip I was never meant to hear, I embrace instead the support of friends and strangers living by the principle of love having no partitions or rigid guidelines of what it should look like.

The  search to find where I “fit in” has been unremarkable in the sense that it’s nothing unique; scores of people have come before me with the exact same predicament.  If not here, maybe I fit in there?!  The trial and error process is obviously a lifelong experience and this is merely a new frontier to explore. In the end I gratefully write that regardless of their opinions, I fit in exactly where I am.