You might need to register to read this essay by Kelly Valen about her disastrous experience in a sorority.
Briefly, Valen was date-raped and got blamed for it. By young women who, she claims, "had sex in our chapter room, in hot tubs, behind rocks. They participated in communal bulimic binges and coordinated the termination of unwanted pregnancies." And don't get the idea that they were open and honest about any of that, either. They wore "Laura Ashley prairie dresses." Hypocrisy was the rule.
So Valen's victimization was in no way a *human* problem for them, but an *image* one. ("They said I deserved my fate and further complained that I had brought shame upon them all.") And for whatever reason--probably because she came from a different background--these lovely young ladies did not afford her the same insider protection that they gave each other. No, it became clear pretty quickly that they were going to scapegoat her instead. They began 'pretext-stopping' her--finding little reasons to discipline her, like the fact that she wore sweatpants instead of the Laura Ashley uniform. Then, in a group confrontation, they ganged up on her and kicked her out.
Valen says she never recovered. In fact, and I'm totally serious here, she sounds like she has Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. "It has left me anxious and cowering to this day...I've...[avoided] any kind of group female intimacy. I begged off on baby groups when my children were born and haven't been able to bear book clubs, the charity circuit, women's fitness classes or the country club scene. Even finding myself among a group of...mothers at my children's sporting events can trigger that familiar anxiety." When, years later, she meets the sister who led the pack in the confrontation, "my flushed chest and forehead betrayed my inner turbulence." If you've read anything about PTSD, those passages will constitute a conga line of red flags.
I hope Valen gets professionally assessed to see if she does in fact have PTSD. It's treatable by knowledgeable therapists and there's no reason why she should have to live her life constantly reexperiencing that old confrontation every time she's around more than one person with a double-X. (Set of chromosomes, that is.)
Valen might also consider that being dissed by a bunch of alleged Laura-Ashley-wearing crypto-sportfuckers should not be a tragedy. It should be a badge of honor. I once read something somewhere (sorry, no idea who it was by) which said "Making certain kinds of enemies is a sign that you're on the right track and God loves you."
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Valen's bleak description of human relationships, however, was *right* up my alley. "The gossip, the comparisons, the withering critiques...shark-infested waters of our own design...don't have a clue where we stand with one another...at once allies and foes." Yep. Among *groups* of friends (as opposed to individual pairs), that is the rule. As Sartre tells us, "L'enfer, c'est les autres." ("Hell is other people.")
Or as the Buffyverse put it in "Once More, With Feeling," "Understand, we'll go hand in hand, but we'll walk alone in fear."
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Someone once told me she approached her social life like starting a business. She was determined to be popular because it was a kind of currency. It was power, it was protection. It carried its own hazards, but she decided she was just going to stay vigilant and manage them. She most certainly did not go forth starry-eyed like poor Valen, actually *believing* all that bullshit about sisterhood. Not this person. No, she assumed the worst and went from there.
But although she played the game, she played it for different reasons than many others. So she actually did make some real friendships. She has some treasures. Some jewels of the heart.
So do I, but I found them in totally opposite ways from her. I found them in corners, on edges, at margins.
People who were hiding, like me.
