Wynsday's Child

This past week I confirmed that one of my “firsts” died, and I’m trying to unpack all of it. Bear with me. 

When I was 19 I had my first sexual experience with another woman, a friend who I’d known for a few years at that point. In one instance, it was she and I alone and on another occasion it was her, her husband, and me. We were only together those two instances. Around this time, I’d also witnessed her cheating on her husband constantly, but because she was my friend and I was young and stupid I kept her secrets. I thought I was being a good friend, but, as with many of my relationships prior to the work I’ve done to heal, I was beholden to a person who did not care about me and who likely had a sex addiction and/or personality disorder issues. For the sake of keeping her identity relatively undisclosed, I will call her Elle.

After Elle and I had had our encounters, I started putting some distance between us. I’d begun hanging around with a different crowd as well, so that made things easier. I would hear from her on occasion and avoided her when I could, but I felt guilty for doing so. A few years later, I met my first husband at a club in Houston, and we got engaged and then pregnant then married. My new husband and I had moved into the mother-in-law apartment on the back of my parents’ house while we were awaiting the birth of my son. It had now been five years since those encounters and I hadn’t heard from or talked to her in at least 2-3 years. One day I was sitting in my parent’s living room and someone brought me the house phone. It was Elle on the other end. She was being her saccharine sweet self while we quickly caught up, and she told me she was getting divorced from her husband. I was not surprised in the least as she had already rattled on about her new beau, who she’d met while still married, and who apparently had some sort of criminal charges regarding children that she claimed were untrue. She had two girls. I couldn’t believe what she was telling me. She then asked me to go to court to testify in the ongoing custody hearing because, and I quote, “I know you and [husband’s name] had an affair and I just want you to tell the court that.”  I was never attracted to her husband. He worked hard for her and their children, but he was not handsome and if I’m being honest handsome was a requirement for me in those days. The three-way we’d had was a drunken experiment for me, not something I’d desired from either one of them. I told her I absolutely did NOT have an affair with him and would not perjure myself for her. She then tried convincing me that I’d had this affair! I had family around so I could not speak as freely as I wanted, so I simply continued to say no and eventually ended the call. Sometime later, maybe weeks or a couple of months even, she showed up randomly at the house looking and behaving like she was strung out on something (I’d not known her to do hard drugs previously and I never witnessed her taking anything personally, but there was something wrong with her; I could only conclude that it was either drugs or a psychotic break). I did go to her apartment once after that, months later and after I’d had my son, when she claimed she was single and getting her life together and that she wanted to meet my son. When I got there it was plainly obvious that a man lived there (why did she lie?). She again brought up he belief that I’d had an affair with her husband, claiming in her sweetest voice that she didn’t care, she just wanted me to admit it. It was insane. I left rather unceremoniously, and decided then the friendship should be best left in the past. 

Over the years she would attempt to make contact through social media. I’d accepted a friends request thinking I could keep the friendship virtual, but she became an annoyance even there so I eventually removed her. I finally had the courage to let her messages to go unanswered. I’d have folks mention that she’d asked about me. This went on for years, but eventually it stopped altogether. 

Earlier this year one, maybe late last year, of her comments showed up on one of my Memories posts on Facebook, so I thought I’d take a look at her page and noticed it had been memorialized. I tried finding a funeral home online memorial or something, and there was nothing. There were no outpourings of love or “I can’t believe you’re gone!” type posts on the page, so I made the assumption that she was once again lying. A few weeks back, my bff asked me if I’d seen that it had been memorialized and I told her what I suspected. Last week another friend who knew both me and Elle asked if I knew what happened, and I began to look into it further. I found both her oldest child’s and her mother’s Facebook pages, but, while both pages are public, only on her daughter’s page mentioned her death. Eventually I figured out that her (2nd?) husband, the man she was with at the time she died, had a memorial photo on his page with an announcement of a memorial service for her. Only then did I believe it was true. As an aside, it also took me a moment to find her youngest child’s page, as he is now a trans man. Again, no mention of Elle, but he is an artist and his socials mostly feature his art and not much about him personally. I can respect that, and his art is amazing.

I was at one point very close to Elle’s mother, too, so I know they had a difficult relationship. I can only assume that that became more tumultuous as time went on, particularly with Elle’s mental/emotional problems, but still I wonder where the break happened that her own mother wouldn’t mention her death. I thought about reaching out, but do I really want tot bring up something that most certainly has been so difficult and heart wrenching for her? She was a good woman, even if she was not a perfect human.

If you’ve stuck around this long, I say thank you for listening to my ramblings. Elle and I had a complicated friendship, and briefly becoming lovers only added another dysfunctional layer. I think this is part of what held me back from accepting my own bisexuality for so long. I have had shit taste in men, but the woman I chose as my first was not healthy either. As I said, I’m just processing. It’s a strange thing when someone you once cared for, who had mental health issues and treated you poorly, passes away. There are a lot of complex feelings. Mostly, I’m sorry for her mother and her children and those who loved her. At best, I will say, I hope her spirit can rest.