You're Not Invited

You Are Not Invited

One of my favorite Creative Crossings activities is a piece called You Are Not Invited.  The purpose of the activity is to help girls see that they have many options to every problem they may come across.  Each character — Amara (the girl having the party); Tamika (the girl stuck in the middle); Victoria (the girl not included); and the Crowd (friends that bear witness — has the power to make the bad situation either worse or better.


Although I teach this activity with finesse and confidence, I recently encountered my own You Are Not Invited scenario.  Here's what happened: I attended a Rosh Hashana service at our local temple.  It's a gorgeous old building with an abundant lawn and big windows that light up the room.  We were eating lunch outside and I was feeling very happy and relaxed.



"This would be a great place to have a party," I said.



"Yes," my friends replied, "Angela (name has been changed) just rented it out for her 50th birthday."



My stomach jumped to my feet.  "Angela is having a party? I wasn't invited?"  In fact, the mere mention of a party that I am not invited to has the power to instantaneously bring me back to my emotional state in sixth grade.


Rosalind Wiseman in her book Queen Bee Moms and Kingpin Dads says that it is our responsibility to "understand the filters through which we view the world."

Okay, so here's mine.  While in sixth grade, my very popular group of friends turned against me.  Although they had already made this decision, they pretended to be my friend while talking about me behind my back and plotting ways to bring me pain.  Though I intuitively knew that something wasn't quite right, I found out my official new status only because I wasn't invited to a party.
That's a pretty strong filter.  And, let's face it, it sucks to not be invited.
However, if I take away my sixth grade popularity and pain filters, this is what I find:
1. I really like Angela.  My sadness in not being invited is not about status or wanting to be invited to the "right" party with the "hippest" people.  I genuinely like, admire, and respect this woman.
2. Although we are friends and, in fact, she had recently come to a small and intimate dessert party at our house, we are not that close and don't really talk on the phone or spend frequent one-on-one time together.  My friend said, "Angela is the most inclusive person I know and also she adores you.  I'm sure it was just an oversight."
"Yeah, I know," I say, defying the sixth grade girl that lurks inside me, "I'm over it."
However, the next time I run into Angela, I find myself scrutinizing the interaction with her.  Was she a little stand-offish?  I run through our recent interactions.   Did I cross her?  Did I upset her without realizing it?   Perhaps she never liked me.
I could feel the pull of wanting to gossip, to gather some people on my side, to think of some reasons why I shouldn't like her.  My husband wasn't a willing participant.   He said, "Oh good, a party we don't have to go to!"  My sister said, "That is a very curious thing, I would just ask her.
I saw Angela again at the Farmer's Market and considered being direct.  After all, relational aggression stems from our indirect handling of problems.  She was very friendly and warm, as if the big 50th had never happened.   I waited for the words to come out, but nothing formed.
As I walked from the market, I realized that asking her would potentially put her in an awkward position.   We weren't close enough, I felt, to warrant that direct of a question.   There's a good chance that I just wasn't invited to the party — simple as that.  Not an oversight.   Not out of hatred.  It happens!  I thought of my You Are Not Invited scenario.  I was Victoria — the girl in my scenario who is left out.  Just like I teach the girls, there were many actions I could take that would make this situation worse or better.
I am happy to report that I chose the better route.  I bear no ill will towards Angela.   I hope that our friendship grows deeper and I will make an effort in that direction.  I have a genuine fondness for her.  If she doesn't respond, I think I'll live!   And, more importantly, I haven't resorted to gossip or retaliation.   In this case, a sense of empowerment lies in the idea that it is my choice.   Rather than someone being mean to me, not inviting me, or taking away my joy, I realize that I can be the one to initiate a more intimate relationship, or to focus on friendships that feel happy and healthy.