Ever since I met my husband, my life has drastically improved. I found myself spending less time with friends, as I stopped frequenting bars. I used to enjoy watching football at those establishments, returning home feeling content. However, after moving to a new city, I began to miss my friends and the good old days. When my birthday approached, my husband suggested we go to a bar where I used to work and socialize. I was thrilled that he mentioned it; it felt like a special treat.
Upon arriving, my excitement grew as I walked in and saw my favorite bartender, someone I had worked with for 15 years, already enjoying a drink at the bar. I approached him to say hello, but he seemed annoyed and rolled his eyes at me. Feeling rejected, we decided to sit on the other side of the bar, and I left feeling hurt. I couldn’t understand what I had done to deserve such treatment, especially after all the good memories we shared.
About a year later, I noticed another coworker’s birthday celebration on social media. I mentioned to my husband that it had been a long time since I had seen my old friends and asked if we could go. Although he was reluctant, he agreed. When we arrived, the same bartender who had previously rolled his eyes at me was again having his after-shift drink. I approached him, saying, “Hey, how are you? It’s been a while! Have I introduced my husband to you?” He responded with surprise, you’re married? As I began to explain, people interrupted our conversation, making me feel like I was bothering him.
While still trying to have a conversation with him, I struggled to order a beer as the other bartenders were preoccupied with talking over me to him. I asked if he could order one beer for me, and he reluctantly asked the bar back to get it. He didn’t even look my way. Frustrated, I searched for a seat and noticed empty chairs near the birthday girl. However, two patrons blocked my path, claiming the seats were off-limits. I eventually found a spot at the end of the bar.
When I asked the bartender for my change from the $20, I had given for my beer, they ignored me. I looked around, feeling out of place, and my irritation grew, especially since the beer was only $2. After 20 minutes, I finally received my change. Disgusted, I decided to leave. I apologized to the birthday girl, wishing her a great celebration before heading home, where I felt tears welling up. I reflected on what I might have done to these people with whom I once shared a strong bond. I reminisced with my husband about the time I went Easter candy shopping with the birthday girl at Walmart at 3 AM after our shift, and another occasion when a bartender accidentally punched me, leaving me with a bloody nose for my entire shift. My husband comforted me, saying, “Baby, stop. You’ve grown and evolved. You’re no longer sitting at that bar, and they are just jealous of you.”
I recently organized a monumental celebration, a birthday party for my husband, and extended invitations to friends from my past. Despite inviting nine couples, only one former roommate attended. This experience highlighted my feelings of insignificance. It sucks when you have thought of someone so highly.
I am sad that a friend who had repeatedly promised to meet up and whom I believed I held significant importance to—especially since she officiated my wedding—has not been in touch for almost a year.
Additionally, I have two close friends with whom I struggle to maintain connections. One is struggling. I have been trying to get together. She has reached out to me for an event I am not interested in going, to because they are friends of my husband. A band that I am not interested in seeing over and over. The other, with whom I recently reestablished contact. We will see, but I am glad to be speaking to her again. What a complete lesson I have received in 2024.
