Catalina Ramirez
Timothy K. Dalton
Narrative Medicine 10113
September 14, 2023
Finding My Voice: A Journey from Outsider to Insight
I still cannot pinpoint when or where it all changed, but my attempts to be heard grew increasingly desperate with time. I would interject with anecdotes, ideas, and thoughts, but it felt like my words were swallowed by an insatiable void. It was as if I were speaking in a language only I understood, and my friends had all but forgotten how to listen.
Half of our time was spent in a charming little coffee shop tucked away on a quiet street corner adorned with pretty orchids on the window sill and green vines lining the roof of the cafe. As I walked in, the smell of coffee grinds felt like home as Shadia, Julia, and I sat at our usual corner table. Shadia loved watching the people walking by the shop as much as I did so we would sit next to each other while Julia faced Shadia, never minding the view of the coffee shop. Putting our bags on the floor and reaching into them to pull out our laptops and planners, so began our routine of tackling this week’s assignments and projects. Dedicated as we tried to be, it only took an hour before Shadia whispered “You know who was annoying me today?” Immediately Julia slammed her laptop shut and lit up asking who, what, when, where, why, and how all in one, reveling in anything gossip related. Relieved to have a break from boring old physics I gladly listened in as Shadia’s storytelling magic drew us into the drama as we sipped on our matcha lattes and so the rest of our afternoon was spent laughing and gasping at the comedy show Shadia seemed to be living in.
That was our routine- homework, matcha lattes, talking until the sunset on most days- and it was always the highlight of my day. Soon enough though, our fun coffee shop days did not hold the same peaceful ambiance and it felt like going through emotionless motions. It was no longer Shadia telling crazy stories of her family back home, or Julia oversharing about her wild love life, or me updating about the latest school drama of the week. Gradually, I would hear more “So guess what we did last week” which was then followed by Shadia exaggerating every last detail of their weekend adventures making it seem like they had the best time. Julia would only ever agree with Shadia and knowing her long enough half of her loud laughs felt forced to my ear. I never had the nerve to directly ask them why they would no longer include me. Decisions were made on my behalf, and out of the fear of losing my dearest friends, I stifled my voice and pretended to understand their anecdotes, laughing along without truly comprehending.
One day I mentally snapped as a product of my overthinking insanity. I had enough and remarked “It seems like it’s just the two of you hanging out lately, did I do something wrong?” Clearly that question surprised them as they quickly glanced at each other and withheld their responses for just half a second. Julia jumped in and responded with a swift “Oh, we thought you were busy, Cat.” Coming to her aid Shadia added “We didn’t think it was your thing to go out so late. Maybe next time you can come.” Busy every weekend for the past month? They knew I loved going out with them. I went home that night feeling that empty twisted feeling in my stomach, and I could not help but feel that I really may have done something to warrant their distance from me. I felt sick; I never asked again why they no longer spent time with me.
Still, merely listening to their amazing, super fun, life changing, out of this world parties and adventures wasn’t enough. Not even two weeks after hearing their sad excuses as we sat down at our usual corner table I was met with “Hey, can you send me the notes for this Physics and Calculus?” I was well aware Shadia was busy on her phone during class while Julia skipped most of the day to go to the mall so I was not surprised to hear Shadia ask for class notes. Still, she could have at least thanked me in her typical fashion but upon opening my notes my ears were blessed with “That’s it?” Yes ‘that’s it’ I was not going to take 3 pages of notes for each class when it was only a review for our test on Friday. What hurt worse though was hearing Julia complain “I don’t have time to do my homework for Gender Studies; can you send me yours by tonight?” as she got up and sauntered out of the coffee shop knowing she was going to a festival with some college friends because I remembered her telling me about it last week. I remembered. I remembered and she forgot my birthday a week later, but at least I received an empty “happy bday, love you girlie” from Shadia. Homeworks requests became more frequent as days passed and transformed me into a mechanical provider of assignments, homework, and mundane school-related tasks. I felt as if I had to send them the homework without question, because they were my friends right? I had done it before so what was the difference now anyways. My attachment to who they were blinded me as every homework sent to our group chat was met with a simple ‘thanks!’ at best or blunt corrections on my assignments when they no longer felt the need to use kind words. We used to study together, complete our homework side by side, and drink out little matcha lattes, however it seemed they had become too preoccupied with themselves for such companionship anymore- my companionship.
I used to laugh at how a fly could be so stupid as to fall into a venus fly trap and be eaten. Yet, I soon found myself empathizing with the fly, for I too now know the feeling of being an unsuspecting victim. I let myself trust them far longer than they deserved to be trusted, for trust is a delicate treasure not everyone deserves. It is a gift one chooses to bestow upon others, and it took months to realize this truth. Now, I still have fond memories of our coffee shop afternoons, yet each is tainted with a drop of melancholy of how our friendship ended up slowly dissipating. It was funny to me the last time I walked to get my matcha latte, because it was the first time I realized that the pretty vines I only glanced at were never real. In the end, it turned out my friends were as fake as the green vines from the coffee shop I once loved.
