Shouldn't all really tight friendships be able to survive moments of brutal honesty?
I've had this discussion with a friend of mine countless times over the past few months. These convos were in regard to her inability to stand up for herself and let another friend know about her unacceptable behavior (e.g., berating her for her sense of humor, refusing to accept her choice of man, etc) and how it affected her.
Speaking for myself, I'd rather you tell me to my face (or via e-mail, if preferable and more expedient) that something I've done, worn or said is completely out of bounds. As long as you keep it ladylike and civil, we're cool.
If you see a major flaw in someone's appearance, behavior or natural aroma, chances are, others have too. If she's really your friend, you need to tell your girl.
I was out and about this weekend, enjoying the sunshine, spreading love and whatnot, and came across a friend of a friend with a prominent mustache. I understand that there are drugs and hormonal problems that lead to unfortunate hairiness, and sometimes, it just can't be helped. But her girls should have nicely told her to get that waxed before she went out in public.
I'm not being mean--God knows I have my flaws. She had nothing to be ashamed of. I'm directing all of my ire at her so-called friends for their complicity with her upper lip.
We are always slow to see what the mirror sees. I wish my friends in my college days had spoken up around my junior year and told me that my thighs were growing out of control and that I needed to hit the gym on the regular. Things are much better now, but their speaking up would have spared me the cellulite that came home to roost in my late 20s.
Sometimes, I wonder if people let their friends go out looking crazy so that they'll be the hot one in the group...
Regardless, a kindly delivered dose of brutal honesty is a good thing.
Example: We all talked about a stinky biracial sister on our hall during freshman year. She was nice enough, lent me her Fiona Apple CD, but she was ripe with a capital R.
One of my friends just couldn't take her funky visits anymore. She had an honest talk with her in private and let her know that she needed to use some stronger deodorant. The girl had no idea. She thanked her, and the b.o. disappeared.
The truth doesn't have to hurt. Tell your girl, and save her some embarrassment.