I have this friend — her name is Whitney.  Whitney and I met the fall of my freshman year of college at the dining hall.  I was going to dinner with a girl after class and we ran into Whitney there.  This girl had eaten with Whitney before and recounted the story of Whitney finishing the meal off by taking a plate of chocolate chip cookies and eating them.  Whitney was there alone, and so we asked her to join us.  Whitney would tell you that we met through a different mutual friend later, but I happen to know that this is incorrect.  I have a great social memory and I very clearly remember the first time I met Whitney because she made me laugh a lot and I remember coke going up my nose because of it.  You might assume that we became fast friends after that, but that was not the case.

In fact, we never saw each other again until spring semester of that year.  I walked into my very large Social Psych class and Whitney just so happened to be there, so I sat next to her.  To say that Whitney is a very unique individual would be inaccurate.  She is both highly complex and so familiarly simple to figure out.  Whitney went through a very rough life when she was young but has miraculously overcome it.  She actually jokes about it.  To those who do not know her, this is quite rattling, because Whitney does not treat her past history with the delicacy or sensitivity that one might expect.  I have witnessed this many times since, but when Whitney & I first began talking in Social Psych she opened up with her typical icebreaker by telling me that her mother is a prostitute.  I stared at her for a moment and then laughed.  I could not begin to explain to you why I laughed, but I laughed.  There was something about the way she said it and the look in her eyes that it seemed like the appropriate reaction.  And it was.  As it turns out, this is exactly the kind of reaction Whitney expects.  She thinks it is funny.

Whitney is a ward of the state of Oregon.  She was raised by her grandparents since about the age of 3, I believe.  Her father is in prison and her mother is in fact a prostitute.  As an infant Whitney would watch her parents shoot up in their kitchen right in front of her.  She ended up going through therapy when she was younger, and she has healed tremendously from it all.

Whitney & I sat next to each other every day in Social Psych, but we never hung out together outside of class.  Before class would start we would talk about a lot of different things and there was definitely a connection, but neither of us bothered to pursue it during that time.  We went through that semester skimming the surface of each other’s lives and our friendship, but nothing more beyond that.

It wasn’t until a year later, spring semester of my sophomore year, that Whitney and I would really become steadfast friends.  The circumstances for this to occur were finally right and we were more or less thrown into each other’s lives.  Unbeknownst to each other, we had signed up for the same Statistics class and the same Psych of Personality class.  Statistics was late in the morning and then we had an hour break before Psych of Personality began.  Whitney & I would sit together in Statistics, go eat lunch and then go to Psych of Personality together.  We did this three times a week.  We were spending nine hours together a week.  Soon enough, we were spending time together outside of class and we were involved in a volunteer organisation together.  The rate at which our friendship developed astounds me even to this day.  We spent a lot of time together, we never tired of one another’s company and we grew extremely close.

I had a rough childhood myself in many ways, and although it’s not nearly as horrific as Whitney’s, I shared it with her.  Whitney & I have gone through many of the same things in life that a lot of other people our age, or in general, don’t.  I think that our past histories definitely contributed to our friendship, but I don’t think that was enough to cement it or to continue it.

To be honest, I don’t really know what it was.  Whitney & I are very different people.  She is ultra-liberal, I am not.  She is more into the sciences, I am most definitely not.  She is also an atheist, and I think it’s pretty obvious to anyone who has read anything on this website that I am not.  However, Whitney & I have always been extremely tolerant and respectful of our differences.  I actually think that has served as a source of strength for our friendship.  Whitney is one of the most supportive individuals in my life in regards to my faith life and my pursuit of holiness.  She thinks Catholicism is neat.  She jokes and claims to be in love with Catholics and all things Catholic.  She even went to Mass with me once.  It is not that Whitney is completely closed to God, she just hasn’t found any reason to believe or proof that He exists.  It is not that she is indifferent or claims to not know.  She just does not believe that God exists.  Many people have been surprised by the fact that I am such good friends with someone who holds such opposing religious views from my own, but I don’t think it surprising at all.  I actually have more theological discussions with Whitney than with anyone else, and none of these surround any attempt on my behalf to convert her.  We just talk and listen to each other and grow in our own understanding and grow in friendship.

I think our temperaments contribute significantly to our friendship.  We both are curious about others and are respectful of different lifestyles.  I think that in part drew us together.  I actually think it was God that drew us together, but I obviously don’t know what Whitney would say to that.  I think she would smile and say that this is what she would expect from me and what she loves about me, because is so very typically Lindsay.  Both Whitney & I also, because of our pasts, have been more or less inclined to get along with males better than females.  Neither of us have many close female friends, and so we naturally were pulled toward one another.

Also, our pasts.  Whitney is an amazing person and has really overcome a lot.  Talk about resilience.  I, however, am still working towards that, and she has done an amazing job in helping me to get there.  Few people understand where I’m coming from, but she does, and she knows where I’m trying to go.  She has never pushed me or suggested trying this or that, but instead listens to me and helps me to better understand what I’m going through, provide me with support and help me realise that what I’m going through?  It’s not weird or crazy.  It’s normal for what I’m going through.  She’s helped me realise that a lot of what I’ve experienced isn’t normal but that my reactions and struggles to them are, and that’s surprisingly helpful.  Sure, a psychologist could tell me that, but they’re paid to tell people that.  Whitney has been there, she’s gone through it, and I know that she relates to me and is telling me the truth.  She tells me how she went through similar phenomena or situations or felt similar emotions.  It is really comforting for me and for someone who is so temperamentally similar, it really provides me with inspiration and hope.  When I get frustrated and just need advice, she’ll give it to me, but she never offers advice unless I ask for it.  And, really, I should ask for it more often, because her advice always works wonders for me.

I’ve never connected so quickly or so intimately with any friends the way I did with Whitney.  She is a darling.  She makes me laugh and knows how to distract me when I need to cheer up, and she makes me feel comfortable talking to her about serious personal matters.  She’s one of those rare but beautiful people who are there for the ups and the downs.  She is not at all a fair weather friend, and that’s something that I hadn’t really experienced much before her.  She makes me actually feel good about myself.  I cannot ever recall her ever saying anything disparaging to or about me in the course of our friendship, unless you consider her calling me skittish disparaging.

Whitney is not in Boston right now.  She is literally all the way across the country in Oregon.  She managed to do what I was too afraid to do — leave this school.  Neither of us have been particularly happy at this school, though we do enjoy Boston itself.  She left, and she is currently taking night classes in Portland while working a temp job and figuring out where to transfer to.  She wants to transfer back to Boston, though not necessarily to this school, and I selfishly want her to because I miss her more than words could possibly express.  We talk about once a week, when our schedules permit, and each time it delights me to no end and just makes me shine.  I haven’t had many friendships that have withstood the test of distance, but ours really has and I am truly the better for it.  The joy that Whitney brings to my life makes me wish everyone had a friend like her.

I love you, Whitney Woo!

*This is a Whitney-ism.