Don’t Forget the Little People ... They are your legacy too.

My philosophy on friendship has been consistent for as long as I can remember. Be all in. If I cared for someone – if I was drawn to their spirit – if I felt a magnetic pull to someone and saw a possibility of friendship, I was all in.

My first heartbreak didn’t come from a boy (I had plenty of those too). My first heartbreak came from a broken friendship when I was 13 years old and in 7th grade. Her name was Krissy and we met at orientation for our newly-built middle school. We became instant besties – before the word besties even existed. I spent a lot of time at her home and with her family. They were every bit as lovely as Krissy. I credit Krissy for introducing me to Louis. Louis Vuitton, that is. An obsession I still nurture. Krissy was the picture of elegance during a time when we were both surrounded by the awkwardness of middle school. Her style was unlike anyone I had ever known. It was timeless – a stark contrast to what we were seeing in the magazines with music artists wearing their loud pastel-colored clothes (on backwards!) and condoms over one eye of their glasses (thank you Left Eye Lopes!). I was never a fan of those loud trends, so seeing Krissy dress in a way that rejected those trends – I appreciated that. I remember we shopped together for dresses for our winter dance. We were both nominated for princess – Krissy for 8th grade and me for 7th grade. We ended up being, somewhat, coordinated. We both wore dresses with black velvet bodices and full taffeta skirts – hers was red and mine was green. We looked like a Christmas catalog ad. That night, Krissy was crowned Snow Queen, a title designated for one of the 8th grade princesses. I was named 7th grade snow princess. I was so happy to share this with my best friend.

I was, indeed, drawn to her spirit and I did, certainly, feel the magnetic pull towards her. My friendship with Krissy is also what introduced me to my deep love of NYC and the arts “scene” there. Krissy spent a winter holiday break at an acting camp and her parents asked me to join them on the trip to NYC to see her final showcase and bring her home. That trip would be the first time I was in the presence of a bonafide celebrity (hello there Cyndi Lauper!). The excitement of NYC was second only to seeing Krissy in her showcase and finally having my best friend back home.

During the second half of that year there was a shift. Krissy was going to be going to HS in the fall and I would stay behind for my last year of middle school. I couldn’t tell you what happened. I just distinctly remember, all of a sudden, being out. I was hearing of outings being planned without me. Weekends would come and go and I would not be included in the plans – Monday would be buzzing with whispers of the weekend’s escapades and I was on the periphery. I had a lot of pride even at that young age. I never let on that I was hurt. I even managed to rise, dust myself off, and take up friendships with kids in my grade for the remainder of the year. But I was devastated. My heart was broken.

When I went to HS the following year, I took a journalism class and during that class the school newspaper staff would be working in the room while we were listening to the lecture. Krissy was part of the staff and I remember being in that room with her, day-in and day-out, and she wouldn’t make eye contact with me. It stung. I had been all in. I had given a part of myself to that friendship. I shared secrets with her and confided in her about everything. I was welcomed in to her family and I loved them. That journalism class, every day, just reminded me of that loss. Just because she didn't want to be part of that friendship anymore didn't make that pull go away. I still saw her and felt it, only then it rendered a more empty feeling.

I had encounters with her family in the years following – in HS, I worked in the administration office with Krissy’s mom and, ironically, in my mid-thirties, I had contact with her little brother during a brief period of time when our social circles intersected. If I was honest, I always had feelings of regret during those post-war interactions with Krissy’s family. I regret not getting to the bottom of it. I regret throwing in the towel as easily as I did. I wish I would have swallowed my pride and asked for an explanation. Because I didn’t, I spent a good deal of time wondering – what was the reason for the demise of our friendship. I guess it still makes me wonder, all these years later. More than anything I want to be able to say my heart is healed. When it comes to Krissy today, and the remarkable career she has created for herself, it is no surprise to me that she has garnered countless accolades in her field. She is a brilliant journalist and has turned her immense talent for style into a celebrated career. Krissy is a major player in the fashion journalism space. I am so pleased to see that the world saw in her what I was drawn to at a very young age. But every time I see a photo or an article, I feel the tug. She may never know how she impacted me, and that is okay. Oprah Winfrey was once told, by Maya Angelou, your legacy is all of the people that you touched. I find a little smile on my face knowing that I will be a part of Krissy’s legacy as she touched me tremendously at a very young age. That just proves that I still care for that 14-year-old young lady. I appreciate the lessons she taught me in our brief friendship. I celebrate her impact on my life.

I suppose my point in all of this is ... understand that all relationships - good, bad and indifferent, they all impact who you are. They all become part of your fabric. They all should be lessons. And in this case, a friendship that left me alone in the aftermath, still has worth experiencing. I will always be a part of her legacy, as Ms. Angelou defined it.