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THE LAND OF THE WITCHES

Cindy Maddera

Saturday evening, Michael and I sat by ourselves at a table in the corner of a reception hall and watched as our friends Jenn and Wade made their way through the crowd, thanking people for coming to their wedding. I looked at the people in the crowd and realized that I hardly knew anyone there. There were less than a handful of people that I knew. I did not care about this because I was really only there to celebrate the union of Jenn and Wade. Also, Jenn had asked me to take some pictures of her during a private moment between Jenn and Wade when they would see each other for the first time before the ceremony. So Michael and I sat at our table, filling out the wedding games that had been left on the table and eating charcuterie. I said to Michael “I don’t get it. Why has Jenn latched onto me? Of all the people we’ve met through camp, what is it about me?” Look, I’m not saying that there’s something unlikable about me. It’s just that Jenn is cool, like Pink Lady Rizzo cool and while I’m not as prude as Sandy, I am probably as dorky and unhip as Sandy.

Michael said “Well, look at who Jenn’s just married. Wade is just a really good person and Jenn’s a really good judge of character. She recognizes good people when she sees them.” He’s not wrong about Wade. Wade is the nicest, most generous human. He’s interested in whatever you have to say no matter what you’re talking about. He’s a total nerd like me and he gives excellent hugs. Plus, when he looks at Jenn, his face says it all. She’s his one. Finding the one and having the opportunity to share your life with that person is a very special gift. The next morning, Jenn sent me a text thanking me for being there and taking pictures. I was in the middle of editing those pictures when she texted. I responded to her with a similar question I’d presented to Michael and told her that I was editing those photos for her now.

Honey just you being you. You are a beautiful genuine soul who is always willing to dive deep and talk about REAL shit. Idk. I just love you. You’re stuck with me.

Jenn’s a pretty amazing human to be stuck with, but I am still awed by how it is possible to continue to make these important friend connections as we grow older. Making new adult friends is hard. We are all ruled by ridiculous color coded calendars. Life is busy. I am lucky.

Jenn’s text surprised me, not because of the nice things she said, but by how she sees me as someone who is willing and easily talks about the hard things. It’s one of those comments that made me tilt my head to the side like a curious puppy and ask “is that true?” I think she might be a little right. Like for instance, I write about a lot of difficult things in this space. I pour my heart out here, but there’s some environments where this is not true. I have a grievance that I have been holding onto because I cannot seem to find a way to broach the subject without encountering defensive maneuvering. This is with a person that I have struggled to communicate with for years and a grievance that comes and goes. Recently though, it has become intolerable. I’m noticing that the longer I go without saying anything, the more likely I am to say something mean or snappish. I have done a lot of biting of my own tongue. This person does not create the kind of environment where I feel comfortable with talking about real shit. At least not in the way that Jenn does or some other people in my life.

Tomorrow, I fly to Boston where I will then take a two hour drive by myself down to Woods Hole and the Marine Biology. I will stay in a room by myself. Take meals by myself. There will be a few solo adventures in between doing an inventory of our lab space and closing it down for the winter. I predict there will be hours and hours of nothing but the voices in my own head and that this will be a good opportunity to organize and write down my thoughts. Watching Jenn and Wade make promises to each other, made me think about what I want in my own life. My want is going to require me to create a comfortable environment where I can dive deep into talking about the real shit. This means that I will need to be able to present my grievance in a clear and constructive manner. Basically, I’m going to spend a week not talking while trying to find a way to talk.

I’m going to the land of witches in in hopes of finding my voice and the courage to use it.