Gold Standard Girlfriend
The most cosmopolitan friend I have is my former coworker, Meagan. When I recently texted her the link to a Louis Vuitton Neverfull with hot pinking lining at 1AM, asking, “Is this cute or tacky? I am too influenced by Lisa Vanderpump,” she replied thoughtfully the next day.
“It’s not tacky, but it’s v basic,” she wrote. She then sent a link to a sleek, leather laptop bag, telling me, “These are v gorgeous and cool girl and would fit your laptop without looking like a basic Highland Park mom.”
Meagan and I got close when we both worked together at a large law firm in Dallas. A crew of us who joined the firm during the same two-week stretch in July 2018 have all since lateraled (attorney talk for “switched jobs”) to various other places but have still stayed in touch.
When we both started at the firm, I never expected Meagan and I would be friends. The first day I saw her, I was incredibly intimidated by her. She had bob-length short hair with blond highlights. She drove an Acura SUV. She carried her things in a sleek leather bag. She worked out with a personal trainer and wore high heels from fancy department stores.
I wore none of these things and did none of these things.
I rarely wore makeup to work and kept my hair pulled back in elastic ties. The one pair of heels I could stomach wearing were LifeStrides Comfort Pumps I bought at Marshall’s. When they wore out, I bought three more pairs on Amazon for $15.99 each, willing to run them down, throw them out, and start again with a fresh pair. I worked out to YouTube videos, if at all, and drove a beat-up Volkswagen Beetle.
The most cosmopolitan thing about Meagan was that, despite these superficial differences, she never once made me feel like I was less than her for being the scrappy little ragamuffin I was. In fact, she made me feel not only like I could attain the level of high-quality life that she enjoyed, but indeed I deserved that as well.
She would slip into my office around 9:30am, carrying a paper cup from Merit Coffee, a San Antonio coffeehouse chain that had just opened a Dallas location. Yes, we had free machine-coffee in the break room, but Meagan liked her Americano from Merit. In the ballerest of baller moves, she walked around holding piping hot coffee in a cup with no plastic lid. A full 20 ounces of black coffee and espresso (if that’s what an Americano is?? I actually drink Pumpkin Spice Lattes because, see above, I am basic), not a lid in sight. NO LID. NO FEAR.
The boldness was honestly incredible and a micro example of her overall confidence and poise. Not only did she dare to carry her coffee that way, but she did so successfully. White pants? Not a drop. Coral-colored blouse? Flawless. I sipped free break-room coffee from a work-issued thermal mug, lid tightly affixed. She, on the other hand, would sit kicked back in the guest chair in my office, steam rising from her cup, casually fielding panicked questions from me about what guy I was dating.
First, it was a situationship I was in, with someone who Meagan regarded at the time (and who I regard now with the benefit of hindsight) as not worthy of my attention. My bird-in-the-hand mentality had me death-gripping onto something that never served me.
“What should I do about this dude?” I asked her.
To Meagan, the solution was clear: Shut it down. Move on. Demand more. After a little more foot-dragging, I finally did.
A few months later, after some mediocre and downright bad Bumble matches, I matched with a gorgeous filmmaker with a great sense of humor.
“Holy shit, look at this guy,” I told her, showing her a photo of my now-fiancé, Paris. “He’s super hot. What is happening? How did we match?”
“You deserve someone like that,” she said. “Why wouldn’t you date a hot guy like him?”
This was a great question. I mean, I hadn’t ever really done it before. Some folks date those who are out of their league. I vacillated between very much in-my-league to way-below-my-league for many years, owing to a debilitating lack of self-esteem.
“I think I am going to go out with him,” I told her.
“You absolutely should,” she said. Then, over the next few weeks, she helped me decide on responses to his texts.
When I started looking for a new-to-me car and began eying a luxury pre-owned SUV, I got mixed input from friends and family. Frugal folks in my life balked at this, but not Meagan. I pulled her around to the other side of my desk one afternoon to show her the car I had chosen. Low milage. Well-maintained. High quality.
“I love it,” she said. “It’s perfect. You deserve it.”
Later, when I showed her a laptop backpack I thought I may want to buy, an upgrade from the beat-up shoulder bag I schlepped my things around in, she didn’t skip a beat. She knew – we both did – I was making big law money at the time. I could afford something a little nicer than what I had. Even so, I wasn’t going for some Kardashianesque Hermès Birkin bag. It was a classic piece from Tumi with a five-year warranty.
Meagan never pushed me toward ostentation but instead taught me to appreciate and value quality in all areas of my life. The question was never, “Is this trendy? Is this cool?” It was always, “How was this made? What is it made of? Who made it?” For it was these qualities that would tell you whether something would last.
When she was poached from our law firm by one of the largest and most well-known companies in the world, it was no surprise. A person like her values quality because she is quality. A person like her stands out as the best and is therefore coveted by the best.
At the time, the law firm job was the best job I had ever had, at least by conventional measures. I had never made as much money, enjoyed such perks, worked on such sophisticated matters, or had that much prestige attached to my name. Still, I hated it but I clung tight. Like the situationship, it was yet another bird-in-the-hand.
Meagan enjoyed all those same benefits working with me at the firm. Perks and prestige aside, when that other job came calling, she left with no hesitation. She had the law firm bird in the hand and found it lacking. She recognized what she deserved and took the leap, negotiating a deal for herself with the new company over and above the initial offer.
I could never, I thought at the time.
“They’re going to pay for that?” I would ask her about some benefit she would be receiving.
“For sure they are,” she replied, unshakable.
Even after she left, she remained steadfast in ushering me toward just exactly what I deserved. When a news story would break about a deal in the podcasting industry, she never failed to send it my way.
“That’s going to be you,” she said, speaking into existence what I quietly hoped for but thought may not be possible. “Soon,” she added.
I had the bird in my hand – the ultimate lawyer job – and felt guilty for having an eye toward leaving to pursue what I truly wanted to do. Hearing that my dream was possible, from someone like her, was huge. All those busy hours, those nights and weekends at the firm, I knew weren’t going to do anything to move the needle in my direction of full-time creative work.
When I started looking around to leave, she was the first person I texted the new job posting to. I found a fellowship – a 9-to-5 opportunity to get paid doing the only thing I really loved at the firm, pro bono work.
“It’s perfect,” she said, and pointed out that the set hours would give me time to grow the show.
I leapt. I applied. I was offered the fellowship and let her know I was selected.
“Of course you were,” she said.
No matter the news I called her with – the podcast was picked up by a network, we were signed by a talent agency, I am quitting work to do the show full time - each time, she would frame my trajectory and the show’s success as an inevitability rather than a fluke.
There are people in this world who will see for us a life we would never want for ourselves. They may pressure us into their ideals or bully us with their expectations.
Then there are others who see us for who we are and for what we have at the present moment.
Best and rarest of all, there are the Meagans of the world. Few and far between, these are the ones with sky-high visions for themselves and for the people they love. These rare ones see for us not what we are or what they think we should be. Instead, they knock aside our fear, our self-imposed limitations, and the foolish expectations of society. They open our eyes to what we deserve. They open our hands so we can let go of that for which we have settled. Through their examples and encouragement, they help us actualize what we were meant for and live the life we truly deserve.
And if we are really lucky, they’ll stop us from impulse-buying a silly shoulder bag that would make us look BASIC AF.
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This piece first appeared in Sunday Morning Hot Tea. Subscribe so you don’t miss another piece.