Being Geek Chic is a blog about one woman navigating the male-dominated industries of production and tech. It's written by Elizabeth Giorgi, Founder, CEO and Director of Mighteor - one of the world's first internet video production companies. Learn more about Mighteor here.
“Tell me thy company, and I’ll tell thee what thou art.” – Miguel de Cervantes
It’s a cold December evening and I’m sitting around this gorgeous, vintage weathered farm table with five of the most beautiful women I know. Snow is gently falling outside. The tiny restaurant’s kitchen’s fire warms up the entire room. I’m a little buzzed from my pre-dinner cocktail. And I am happy. Stupidly. Blissfully. Electrically. I am with my women.
As I sit there, I think: Seven months ago, four of them weren’t in my life. One of them was still in an unhappy marriage and living in California. I’ve just ordered a perfect bottle of Malbec so we can all toast. And what are we toasting to? Our breakups. Our terrible, painful, heart-wrenching breakups. Because somehow, they brought us together. Somehow, we all managed to make March through June of this year our “end long-term loves” period. The following July through December has been the “falling in love with new women” period.
My high school days were entirely devoid of female friendships. It’s a fact that I was always tremendously defensive of, but as I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to appreciate the rarity of that connection. It wasn’t that there weren’t women around. It was that they weren’t “my” women. The people who saw me. And whom I saw on a soul level. When I went to college, I met the loves of my life. I remember having few boyfriends because I spent so much time trying to plan adventures with Katie and Mollie and Nyssa. They were my original squad. My original sisters. My original soul mates.
As I’ve gotten older and life has taken me from one state to another, I have borne witness to the chapters of these women’s lives. Through marriages. Children. Job changes. Masters Degrees. Terrible breakups. And affairs. Yet our 20s are a funny thing, because they are often the time of our first major distractions. Those first psuedo-marriages with live-in partners. And all the compromises we humans make to make those situations work. Specifically, the compromises women make to make those situations work.
And I don’t resent it. It’s part of humanness. Part of growing up. Part of being. I know that. But I see things like this talk between Lily and Jane and I think: how many times over the decades did they get distracted, only to find the love they most needed in the partnership they have with each other? I would guess it’s in the double, if not triple digits.
So I’m back at that table. Malbec in hand. Toasting to these women. I love, love, love giving a good toast. I love telling people I love them when I do, because it’s a gift so rare. I love sharing words. And tears. And laughter. They are my new set of soul mates. My 30s soul mates. My next chapter soul mates. And even though you never know what is going to last or for how long, it feels like the most perfect little pocket of time. One that I’ll revisit when the first in the group gets married or remarried. One that I’ll remember when that restaurant passes by my rear view mirror. One that I’ll hold onto with precious care and recall in drunken moments of nostalgia.
The women in my life saved me this year. But these women, specifically, saved me. For whatever the future may hold, it is the women in our lives whom we can come back to and be our true selves. A gift so rare, so precious, that we had to give it a proper title. We had to label it with the soul.
To my sisters and soul mates, you are a blessing. Cheers to you.
