“Everything OK, sweetie?” Dorothy is eying me with concern. “You’re looking rather disgruntled.”
“Ah it’s just awful, Dorothy dear.” I blurt out. “I’ve joined various groups on Facebook in regards to my personal interests. You know: women in business, successful single moms, yoga lovers, food lovers, writers community, conversion optimisation, digital analytics… All that wonderful and thrilling stuff.”
“Oh well that’s great!” Dorothy enthusiasms. “I bet the moderators are all really happy to have you on board. You make great contributions.”
“That’s not the problem. It’s the other women who have joined the groups. Especially the single moms. They’re just a bunch of wingers who know nothing about dating.” I start telling her.
“Oh dear, is it that bad?” Dorothy exclaims. “Can’t you give them any advice? You’re good at that. And at analyzing situations.”
“Well I could, of course, but what’s in it for me? I’m not a life coach, nor do I desire to be one. Besides, I think it’s up to the moderator to put these women out of their misery. It’s really quite awful. I didn’t realise that the majority of single women out there are behaving like desperate divorcees. So unattractive.” I’m really quite put off myself.
“What would you advise, if you were face-to-face with these wailing and flip-flopping women?” Dorothy eyes me with a certain hint of mischief.
“Well for one, Dorothy, I’d get them to do some soul searching on who they really are, and what they really want in life to start with.” I’m still fuming, funnily enough. “You know, drop the masks. Oh come on, you know what I mean.”
“Yes I do.” Dorothy confirms sagely. “It’s the process I went through after I finally seperated from my gay husband.”
“Precisely, darling.” I nod at her. “And what exactly did you discover?”
“I found out it went much deeper than that.” Dorothy muses. “When I hit rock bottom and inspected the ruins of my life fallen apart, I realised that I was carrying long held beliefs about my identity and character. All of this had been dictated by my wicked mother.”
“That’s right, Dorothy.” I affirm her findings. “You were playing out the designated role of the black sheep, the scapegoat. You were to be the one who always got into trouble, who always had bad things happening to you, who always got it wrong. And why was that?”
“Because it deflected away the attention of everybody else’s shortcomings.” Dorothy has sussed it all out by now. “There were much better candidates in my family to be the scapegoat, or who were just downright bums. But they were protected. Kept the lid on the pot. I was the one who had to be wrong. Well no longer.”
“I’m glad you got that sorted, darling.” I tell her softly. “Because these mechanisms have far reaching consequences. For one it influenced your perception about what you wanted in life.”
“Exactly. I’m so happy I broke free from that horrible place.” Dorothy goes on. “I am now finally living from my heart and allow my soul to speak. I am so grateful for the transformation. I’m a strong and self-employed, entrepreneurial single mom of three wonderful children. I love yoga and to travel the world, with my darlings.”
“And you don’t need liquid courage to be a steady and substantial woman, do you Dorothy?” I prod on.
“No although I do enjoy my bubbles, just as much as you do.” Dorothy is on the defensive again.
“Of course, darling, or course. But I was thinking of your mother. I think she’s not the same since her excessive alcohol consumption. Remember what it did to your good friend Nathalie.” A dark look enters my eyes. “She just went downhill. And at one point it was clear that the old version of herself was lost forever.”
“Well I didn’t like the old version of my mother anyway. So it’s a good thing that can’t be found back.” Dorothy sounds relieved.
“But it’s not much better now, is it?” I go on. “She’s losing her marbles something terribly.”
“I wonder if she realises that Graham’s spirit is still clinging on to her.” Dorothy goes for the mystical approach now. “Would definitely explain her anal fixation.”
“Well did you tell her what that medium had said?” I ask her cautiously. “She really should purify herself and then set protective boundaries.”
“Oh no, you know I can’t peptalk that stupid witch.” Dorothy exclaims. “It goes in one ear, and out the other.”
“Look, it’s worth a try. And even if she doesn’t listen, at least you did the decent thing. Maybe her dramatic mood swings are due to her persistent anxiety and overwhelm. It doesn’t look like she’s had any real beauty sleep in over a decade.” I close my eyes and envision a positive turn of events for my darling friend, Dorothy.
“Look, everybody would benefit from her healing. If she’d start by embracing her role as single woman of substance, she might actually find more fun in life. Also, it would allow her to let go of her incestuous relationship with your brother Bobby. She could finally start having healthy, normal relationships with family. She might even make a few real friends and stop cacking on women in general.” I dream further.
“You’re forgeting about the vibrator which got stuck up somewhere inside her.” Dorothy snorts.
“Oh, well be a good girl and buy her a new set of batteries.” I wink at her. “And a new broomstick for Fwa-Fwa. He needs one, else he can’t stand up by himself, you know.”
“Darling, you’re bad!” Dorothy bursts out laughing. “Now I’m back to square one.”
“No you’re not. You’re on your path to greatness. Being charitable will serve you.” I pause. “What about some food? Feeling hungry? We could cook something together.”
“Oh yes, fun! I love cooking a homemade meal with fresh vegetables. Makes me happy every time.” Dorothy beams at me.
“Yup, and we can open the wine to let it air before dinner’s ready.” I continue. “Maybe have a glass or so while we’re making wonderful tasty things. What do you feel like making?”
“I’ve found this recipe for a ‘cool edamame and noodle salad’. Will help fuel our bodies with fresh beauty veggies and help cleanse.” Dorothy answers. “Now how is that for an empowering and transformative burst of inspiration?”
What do you think? What are your favourite summer recipes? Let me know in the comments below.
* Disclaimer : Any resemblance between the fictional characters in this story and any persons, living or dead, is a miracle by chance more than by choice.