Work Text:
Are You There God? It’s Me Margaret
2004
Are you there God? It’s me, Margaret. It’s been thirty years since I wrote to you, since I talked to you. Thirty-three, to be exact. I can’t believe the things I thought were such a big deal when I last did. Not getting breasts before my friends? Now I fantasize about cutting them off, they’re a pain in the ass. Or rather, my back.
And boys. I can’t believe how much time I spent thinking about boys, worrying about boys. I don’t think I ever actually liked Philip Leroy, I just knew I was supposed to like someone. No, a boy. I was supposed to like a boy. Maybe I actually liked Laura Danker, but I didn’t have the name for that back then.
I did get married, to a boy. A man. He was kind of an ass. We had two kids together and then he divorced me to marry his paralegal. I was kind of relieved. Two months later I told him I was actually a lesbian and had never been attracted to him. I was kind of happy it upset him. Is that terrible, God? Does that make me a terrible person? Maybe.
He wanted to go to synagogue with me, which just sort of solidified my dislike of my Jewish side. I had a Jewish wedding but I told him at the time that was the most he was going to get from me. When I came out, I briefly dated a woman who wanted to go to her Unitarian Church with me. She tried to convince me it wasn’t really Christian, but it was. I mean, they were super gay friendly and all, but it was still a church.
But now I’m back here, talking to you, because maybe you know what none of the doctors seem to know – why does everything hurt suddenly? Why is my period suddenly coming every twenty-two days? Why did I spend a whole year of my life yearning to get my period, only to have to deal with it for the next thirty?
I decided I would re-form the Pre-Teen Sensations again. Thanks to Facebook, I’m in touch with Gretchen and Janie and Nancy. I invited them to a Skype meeting since we’re all in different places now. Gretchen moved to Qatar with some horrible guy she had two kids with. Janie lives in California. Nancy moved to Florida to take care of her parents. I’m the only one still in New Jersey. I was so sure I would move back to New York when I was grown, but here I am. New York is fucking expensive.
Gretchen thinks the name of the Skype meeting is hilarious. I called it the Pre-Menopausal Sensations. She’s the first person to log in. She’s also the only one I haven’t told I’m a lesbian now – it just hasn’t come up. Her husband is Muslim and so I don’t know how she will react.
“This is such a great idea,” Gretchen says right away. “I’ve been having hot flashes for the past week.”
“I haven’t had those yet,” I say.
Janie has logged in and unmutes herself. “I had my uterus taken out ten years ago. So I went through all that, all at once. It was the worst.”
“Oh no! Gretchen says, “Are you ok?”
“Yeah,” Janie says. “It was cancer, but we caught it early.”
Nancy logs in now. It’s so weird to see them all in little boxes. In some ways they look exactly the same. In some ways we all look so old.
“I miss you guys,” I say.
“Same!” Janie and Nancy both say at one time.
“My husband will be home pretty soon,” Gretchen says. “So I can’t stay on long.”
“You gotta get out of there, Gretch. You gotta come home,” Nancy says.
I look to Janie’s box for her reaction. She looks confused as well. Nancy must have noticed our looks because she goes on: “Gretchen and I have talked. I’ve told her this for years.”
“My parents moved to Florida as well,” Gretchen explains. “So I look Nancy up when I go there. “
Janie and I nod. I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me to look them up before now. I guess the depth of our connection really was our bodies doing and not doing things we didn’t understand. So it took that happening again to remember why we were friends.
It’s so easy on Facebook for friends to be come an abstraction. Disembodied. You forget who they really are as people, and I imagine other people do the same about you. There’s nothing like waking up in the middle of the night sweating to remind you of your body.
“You’re lucky you’re a lesbian, Margaret,” Nancy says, “Men are the worst.”
“You’re…gay?” Gretchen asks.
Nancy turns pink. “Oh no, I’m so sorry, I thought we all knew – “
“I knew,” Janie says.
“How come I’m the only one who didn’t know?” Now Gretchen sounds hurt, which is even worse.
“I don’t know, it never came up? I’m sorry,” I bluster. “It’s not really that big a deal right now. I don’t really want to have sex with anyone. And women aren’t that much better.”
“Oh my god, is anyone else like so…dry?” Nancy asks.
“No, is that a thing?” Gretchen looks horrified.
“I mean, it is for me,” Nancy says. “But maybe it’s just the men down here in Florida. They’re all so…old.”
This gets a laugh. But then the video feed flickers and blinks. Gretchen turns into squiggly lines for a minute and we can’t hear her.
“This is amazing, that we can do this,” Nancy says, once Gretchen seems ot be back,” But….”
“Yeah, it’s a little glitchy,” I agree. “I’ve only ever done it once. “
“Talking to Gretchen when she’s hallway around the world!” Janie gushes. “It’s incredible.”
“Does anyone else like not even want to have sex anymore?” Nancy asks.
“No! I feel like I’ve had more of a drive than ever,” Janie says.
“Oh man, I miss that,” Nancy says.
“I still want it,” I say, cautiously. How much do these straight women want to know about a middle aged lesbian’s sexual desires? “But I find more satisfaction with my…nightstand friends.”
“I thought it was supposed to be easier with women?” Nancy asks, looking strangely disappointed.
“The sex with women is fine,” I assure her. “It’s everything else that I’m sick of.”
“Oh. So just like with men,” Janie nods knowingly.
“Right,” I nod back.
“He’s home,” Gretchen whispers into the camera. And then her video crackles off. No goodbye.
“Is she…okay?” Janie asks.
“No. She’s not.,” Nancy sighs. “She’s living with this controlling, terrible guy. I don’t know if he beats her or not, but she’s terrified and miserable. But she gave up her job for him so she thinks she can’t leave. I offered to pay for a flight to Florida.”
“Jeez,” Janie says. “I had no idea.”
“She could stay with me,” I offer. I worried she would reject me because I’m gay but this whole time, she was the one in trouble.
“I’ll let her know, Margaret. That’s nice of you. “
The video crackles again. More squiggly lines. The one other time I did this it only gave me like 10 minutes before it cut out. I guess the technology hasn’t been perfected yet.
“This has been amazing, you guys,” I tell them. “Let’s stay in touch more.”
“Pre-Menopausal Sensations Unite!” Janie giggles. She sounds like she’s eleven again.
“Pre-Menopausal Sensations Unite!” Nancy yells back at her.
“Love you both,” I say. And I mean it. Somehow knowing we’re all going through this is comforting. Just like when we were eleven, and anxious to get our first bras, and our periods.