F is for Fairweather Friends

So the other day I was in Waterstones waiting for an event to kick off when I picked up a Grazia.  Not something I ever read to be honest as I can’t stand magazines with more adverts than articles. There was an article about a woman who had dropped out of university when she got pregnant and had watched all her friends get on with their lives. She only landed on her feet years later when she got a job as a showbiz journalist in the South of France.

Suddenly she got bitchy comments on her Facebook wall and on the phone. They started off with the usual tongue in cheek ribs about hating her when she posted about her glamourous life but got quite bitchy later on.

I read this and thought so it happens more than we think. Some people can’t help but comment negatively on anything. The other day I posted a photo of me in a dress and someone pointed out that Maxine my budda belly was rather prominent. Thanks for that. I guess I’m supposed to refrain from posting photos again in which I don’t look perfect?

Or the fact that many people aren’t working doesn’t mean they can’t go out. I’m constantly networking when I am ‘resting’ and yet I get comments like Lucky Bitch or Dirty Stop Out. Trust me most of the events I go to are perilously boring and the men aren’t anything close to getting me dirty.

But the worst type of comments I get is from other single women on the number of dates I go on or the men I interact with. Chicas trust me you can have them. Take them. ALL of them. I clearly have no use for them.  Asking me ‘How come YOU get so many dates?’ however isn’t going to warm me to you.

I realise that some people only want to hear that you have it worse off than they do. I moan about the number of engagements announced on Facebook but I’m happy for every one of them. I just think Facebook likes to taunt me with it in the top right hand corner for days. I’m the dating disasters chick to some and woe betide I have a good date or a relationship. The warnings of perilous times ahead from close friends is unimaginable. Lucky for my friends it doesn’t happen often.

But it does get you thinking about your role in the friendship chain. Are you the friend that people look at and think, ‘Phew no matter what my life isn’t as shit as hers?’ and if so is that a real friendship?

I don’t mind comments. I welcome them. But perhaps some may want to check themselves and if the thought of someone else going on a bad date to Nandos is too much to bear. Just saying. Your choice.

© Chelsea Black



  1. As I get older I notice this more and more…but I have also become VERY good at knowing who my real friends ar and how to handle the others. I get opportunities to meet some amazing people and visit amazing places because I strive for excellence so anyone who makes a mundane comment about the fact that if I did less I would be married by now can jump in a canal (not as deep as a river but the one in Hackney is vile). Enjoy your life and know that when the chips are down your real friends are the ones who CELEBRATE your success, rake the time to ask how YOU are and make meaningful comments on your blog.

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