This was not the post I intended to write today. I had something else in mind entirely about how hard it is to get Miss Avacakes to eat these days.  But since I created an account just to update Twitter when I have a new blog post, I have some questions to answer about why I left.

This may be very difficult for some of you to understand, and that’s ok.  My reasons are my own and at the end of the day they make sense to me and that’s what matters.  But I know a lot of you were left scratching your heads at my sudden departure.  So I will attempt to explain.

About six years ago I was planning my wedding.  I scoured websites for information to help with the planning process and stumbled upon the Knot.  I found a community of women who were doing the same thing as I and I joined a message board.  It was tons of fun.  Lots of laughs and support to go around.  As time progressed, I started corresponding with several people off board, through email.  A few phone calls here and there, which for me is a big deal because I HATE, DESPISE talking on the phone.  It’s one of a handful of phobias I suffer with.

Then came the idea of a get together.  It was going to be huge.  Dozens of “Knotties” from our board were attending.  Despite the fact that it was clear across the country in Washington DC, I begged my poor then-fiancé to go.  So we did.  And I solidified some of my online friendships as we met in person.  It was a great weekend.

When we got back to real life, about a dozen of us felt, or so I thought, that we had formed real connections and began our own message board so that we could chat throughout the day about whatever we pleased.  For months we had daily sessions, on that board, on instant messenger, via email.  I was the lone West Coaster among the group, so when a second get together for just our group was brought up in December I had to bow out.  We’d been going through some hard times since that last trip and could not afford to pay for a plane ticket for me.  The other girls decided to chip in and buy my ticket for me.  A gift.  They wanted me there that badly.  So next March, I was on my way to Baltimore.

In between the time the trip was planned, and its actual execution, things perked up for us financially.  My husband got a promotion and with it a nice raise in pay.  We got our tax refund back.  Before I left I purchased a gift for each of the girls as my way of saying thank you for all they’ve done.

The trip was not as much fun as I had anticipated.  I saw cliques being formed among our small group.  I did not fit in with any of them.  I slept in a room alone while the rest of them camped out pajama party style in another room.  Not by choice, it was where I was directed to sleep.   There was a lot of drinking going on.  I’m not a big drinker, and I don’t judge people who do.  Whatever makes you happy.  But I cannot tolerate very much alcohol and was not into the whole bar hopping scene that they wanted to embark upon.  I started feeling like an outcast.  By the end of the trip I was very glad to be going home and was starting to second guess my friendships.

After getting home I started getting a weird vibe.  I couldn’t really put my finger on it but I got the distinct impression that there was a lot of “behind the scenes” discussion going on.  One member of our group left.  Another soon followed.  I took a break from all of them.  For one thing, my mother’s very first visit to Oregon was approaching.  I was excited that she was finally coming after 6 years.  After her visit I was hesitant to go back.  I saw that in my absence I had been discussed, and in unflattering terms.  Every single cent I spent on that trip was questioned.  Why did I not pay them back for the plane ticket if I had enough money to buy a pair of shoes?  Now maybe this is where I am at fault.  But I was told that ticket was a gift.  I was brought up that you don’t insult someone by trying to pay back a gift.  But maybe I should have any way.  But they started feeling they had a right to dictate how I spent my own money because I had shared my troubles with them.  While I was gone, they even tried to ban me from the message board *I* created and had ownership of.

At that point I cut my ties.  I got several emails afterward, some of which were very enlightening.  Turns out the group member who left before me was dealing with the same issues.  She forwarded several emails to me that confirmed the feeling I had that I was being discussed off board.   My gut had been correct.

Now I tell you all that because I felt myself slipping back into the same old pattern.  I was forming “friendships” on Twitter.  Maybe I’m not giving enough credit to the people there, but I really cannot go down that same path again.  My heart hurt too much after the last time.   I can’t do the get togethers, the BlogHers.  I can’t put myself out there again to be hurt.

After BlogHer2009 at first I was excited to go next year.  I bought tickets.  Then the drama started.  Always the drama.  I knew in my heart that I would end up caught up in it again if I went.  Add to that the fact that people would start falling away as they started leaning more toward people they had actually met….I saw the writing on the wall.

It’s so damn hard to make friends as an adult.  By the time you are my age, most people have friends, long term close friends.  It’s hard to meet people, to make the time and effort to do it.  It’s even harder to find someone with whom you fit.  Moving across country, working full time, having a baby…all those things have left me at the age of 36 without what I’d call a close friend, except for my husband.  I miss it at times.  I thought for a while Twitter could fill the gap.  But at the end of the day, I am too afraid of the hurt to take the walls down again.