A few days ago, I became aware that someone I was friendly with back in Maine was silently following me on social media. She’d posted a random comment, and a few minutes later, I had figured out who she was. The language and attitude were unmistakably her, and the profile pictures, although they didn’t show her face, showed enough that my brain filled in the rest.
“Oh my God, it’s Laura*!” I said.
Skyspook was sure it wasn’t a coincidence. He urged me to send a message. So I did, pointing out that she was from my old haunt, and perhaps we knew each other as it’s a small world in general, particularly where I’m from, and even more so on the kink/poly scenes. I was about 95% sure who she was, but there was a 5% chance I didn’t, and besides, I didn’t want to freak the poor girl out.
She replied that she did know me, that we were even friends before things had gone all to hell with my ex-husband. At that point, deeply triggered by angry emails questioning the decision to divorce him, I’d taken a lot of people, the vast majority of those I knew in Maine, off social media, Facebook, what have you. The divorce was hard enough, having to justify it to people who were shocked by the discord they didn’t know existed between the two of us – well, that was hellish. I did what I had to at the time to stay sane.
I sent back what I thought was a friendly email, explaining this to her, letting her know that I always liked her.
And there was no reply.
Now, to be absolutely fair, she could not be online, be preparing a longer response, or any other of a number of scenarios. But my gut tells me that she doesn’t want to talk to me – which makes perfect sense when I stop and think about it. A lot of people were hurt by what I did, severing those ties.
I find myself more and more questioning what I did then, the wisdom of that decision, one that was FAR easier in the short term but I sincerely hope does not haunt me in the longer term.