The big reveal
Welcome to my new, very unexpected post: The Good Girl. I think you’ll find yourself shaking your head like I’ve been doing in recent days. Get ready to read about a destination wedding, a bizarre text and a trophy.
The slow reveal
When I wrote about being misled in the last post, I had no idea that this new post would focus on an old friend who’d misled me for many years.
Misled
In this life, we often see dimly—without clarity. Like the photo [that was displayed], we may see the general setting, but the details are fuzzy. We may miss the snake slithering across the floor or the spiders crawling up the walls. We may think, “I met her at church, so she must be okay” or “He knows the Bible, so he must be a Christian.” Remember, my violent, sociopathic father-in-law was a church elder. So was his extremely violent father-in-law before him. What people saw of these men on Sunday morning wasn’t remotely true. It was lie after lie after lie.
Think about some times when you thought you were seeing or hearing the truth and you found out later that you were being seriously misled. I can think of many, many examples, which came from news sources, entertainment, books, teachers, advertisers, preachers, friends, everyday people, and major sickos like Her Majesty, my sociopathic mother-in-law, and my sibling, Pam, The Almighty.
Guess what happened, Peaceful Readers? A spider crawled through my phone on Thursday and Friday. I met this particular friend at work when Logan was in kindergarten. Let’s call her Stephanie Foghorn. Stephanie came across as a devoted Christian, wife and mom. Dependable to the extreme. A woman who knew the Bible and was very active in church. But something else was lurking underneath her squeaky-clean exterior. Something it took me 17 years to comprehend.
Let’s unpack it. First, I’ll describe some Stephanie Stories. Then we’ll dig into what happened last week. The one thing you absolutely must know about her is this: Stephanie is a good girl.
The good girl
What do good girls do? Good girls do good things and they do what they’re told.
Avoidance and dread
Over the last 10 years, my contacts with Stephanie decreased annually to the point of chatting occasionally at church and going out for dinner once a year for our birthdays. I found myself increasingly feeling the need to avoid her. I really dreaded our birthday dinners. They went well, but I seriously dreaded them, and—for the longest time—I couldn’t figure out why. Hmmm.
What are some of the things I know about Stephanie?
Family stuff and church stuff
Stephanie and her first husband, Miles, adopted a teenage boy who’d been in foster care for many years. Impressive. What a good girl. And what a good husband.
After Miles died, Stephanie met and married her current husband. Let’s call him Seymour. Yes—Seymour Foghorn, whose parents were missionaries. Stephanie and Seymour are life group leaders at our church. What a very good girl—and she married a very good husband.
The card and the letter
Good girls send cards.
The especially good card
Five years ago, Stephanie sent Brandon a sympathy card after his sociopathic father died. What an especially good girl. She knew all about Brandon’s father Andrew and his extremely abusive behavior. In her card, Stephanie acknowledged that it was a difficult relationship and admonished Brandon that he needed to grieve this big loss anyway. How incredibly thoughtful. (I’m being facetious.)
When someone has severely and chronically abused you, that person’s departure from your life is not a bad thing. It’s actually a cause for rejoicing. You’d think that would go without saying. But good girls don’t celebrate someone’s death—even if that someone was evil. Good girls tell other people how they should feel and what they need to do with their new problem called grief. Nevermind that Brandon’s wife, Yours Truly, wrote a series called Grieving. Nevermind what Brandon really needed. (See this post about grieving the invisible—what should’ve been but never was.)
Good girls follow the rules. Good girls send cards.
Good girls do what they’re told.
And they tell the rest of us what to do too.
The extremely good letter
At our birthday dinner last year, Stephanie told me about a letter she sent to her oldest daughter, who lives out of state. Stephanie wrote an 8-page, single-spaced, typed letter in an attempt to convince her daughter that abortion should be the #1 topic on which she should base her November voting ballot selections. You see, Stephanie’s daughter was liberal and was voting for Kabala (not a typo). I asked Stephanie if she’d ever received an 8-page, single-spaced, typed letter. She said no. I said such a long letter would be unbelievably overwhelming. Stephanie didn’t seem to get it. She was justified. She was fixing a major problem. Stephanie was being an extremely good girl.
Did it ever cross Stephanie’s mind how such a bombastically controlling display might backfire? Nope. Stephanie was being an extremely good girl, don’t you know. She was doing the right thing. Just ask her counselor.
The destination wedding
When Stephanie’s son and his fiancé got married in Mexico, some of the groom’s friends couldn’t be his groomsmen. They didn’t make much money. Stephanie was mad that they canceled. I asked her if her son ever spent $1,500 to $2,000 and took time off work to be in someone’s wedding outside the country. No, he didn’t. “But we gave everyone a year’s notice! They could have saved up that money.” Stephanie couldn’t see the problem. She could afford the international travel. Why couldn’t everyone else?
Stephanie was incapable of seeing the situation from someone else’s point of view. She couldn’t acknowledge what a significant financial hardship such expensive wedding travel would pose to a supposed friend. She couldn’t admit that her son and his fiancé made choices that would inevitably exclude certain people from participating. According to Stephanie—the exceptionally good girl and mother of the groom—her son and his fiancé weren’t responsible for that outcome. Stephanie blamed her son’s friends.
The international health crisis
After Stephanie retired, she started teaching English as a second language in a local church’s program. What an exceedingly good girl.
When COVID-19 vaccine mandates rolled into town, Stephanie got in line and got her shot. She was doing what she was told. She was an exceedingly good girl.
Stephanie asked me to pray that all of her vulnerable foreign students in the English program would get their jabs too—plus their families. I replied that I absolutely could not and would not pray for that. I sent her two resources against the jab. She sent me a long email about all her Google-generated, mainstream resources guaranteeing the goodness of the jab. Her sources said my sources were bad. I dropped it. Stephanie was obviously an exceedingly good girl. I was, apparently, not as smart as Stephanie. As a non-Google girl, I was misinformed. (See this recent post about vaccine deaths and injuries.) Stephanie’s husband Seymour had a minor stoke or two after getting the jab, but that was just a coincidence, right? Maybe there was some Bell’s palsy thrown in there too. I forget.
I prayed that Stephanie’s students and their families would not get the jab. But Stephanie is a very persistent, good girl. And oh-so-caring.
Conversions and commendations
Seymour and Stephanie Foghorn go on mission trips to convert Muslims to Christianity. What an undeniably good girl and her undeniably good husband.
Since good girls send cards, Stephanie showcases their mission trips with photos and a Christmas letter every year.
Stephanie tried to convert one of our former work colleagues—an atheist married to a very wealthy man. They emailed back and forth for a little while, sharing recommended books, etc. Our whole church heard about Stephanie’s efforts to save an atheist because Stephanie asked our preacher for some tips.
In fact, I’ve heard the preacher praise Stephanie Foghorn from the pulpit at least four or five times. (1) The Foghorns are exemplary life group leaders. (2) The Foghorns go on mission trips. (3) Stephanie Foghorn tried to convert an atheist. And (4), the Foghorns demonstrated Christian hospitality by housing a Cuban mom and her teenage daughter for years as they sought asylum in the United States. I think he threw in Stephanie’s work in the language program too. Wow.
What an unrivaled good girl—and her unrivaled good husband. And the whole church heard about everything. Give the Foghorns a trophy or two. They must be the best Christians in our large church. How is it that our lead pastor found out about all these good things? How, indeed.
The trophy
Some people think giving public accolades and awards to supposedly-exemplary Christians is a good thing. In our Facebook/Instagram, narcissistic, “look at me” world, it seems normal. My thoughts? Proceed with extremely guarded, Holy Spirit-inspired caution. Beware.
Why do I say that? Here’s a brief and somewhat incomplete explanation.
The trophy that wasn’t
The coordinator of the ladies’ luncheons at St. Matt’s, the church where I work, wanted to give a trophy to the best, supposedly-unnoticed Christian woman at our next luncheon. I was absolutely horrified. This was my reply:
Personally, I’m not in favor of awards or trophies for Christian service/living for several reasons. Many women in the room are, in one way or another, award-worthy. To single out one woman among 70 or 80 really bothers me. Awards like this are, in my opinion, a violation of the spirit of Matthew 6:1-4. Our reward for righteousness comes from God and him alone. Messages and encouragement like “Well done, good and faithful servant” come from our indwelt Holy Spirit and he is more than sufficient to recognize and encourage us. Our motivation for serving must be godly and humble. Bringing awards/trophies into the equation can tempt the heart and twist the motivation. Besides, no one in the room knows every single woman there deeply enough to make a fair and unbiased nomination that truly recognizes “the best.” I, personally, would not want to receive such a trophy because, in my belief, it does not honor God or his word….
Thanks,
Frankie Ann
I didn’t receive a reply. Thankfully, the subject was dropped. Had I been completely, brutally honest, I would’ve said that if I received such a trophy, I’d throw it in the trash in utter disgust. It would be extremely offensive to me. What I wrote above was more tempered and was obviously strong enough to get the point across.
A family, not a club
The church is not a sorority or fraternity. It is not a business club. It is not a sporting or academic competition. It is the Lord’s family. Do we give “best family member” trophies at Christmas dinners or family reunions? No, we do not. And for good reasons.
Where would Stephanie Foghorn put a “best Christian” trophy if she received it? You can do the math. And hey—it might even make it into her Christmas photo collage and letter sent out to the masses.
The big reveal
Like I said at the beginning of today’s post, I felt increasing dread each year before my annual birthday dinner with Stephanie, the unbelievably good girl.
At first, I simply delayed this fall’s dinner a month or more, and requested that it be a regular, non-birthday dinner. Last Thursday, Stephanie texted: “Hi Frankie Ann! Are you ready to plan a birthday dinner?” Stephanie ignored (or conveniently forgot) my request for a non-birthday dinner. The time had finally arrived for me to end our annual, long-dreaded tradition. Here’s the text conversation.
Thursday night
Stephanie: Hi Frankie Ann! Are you ready to plan a birthday dinner?
Friday
Frankie Ann: No, thanks. Let’s just visit now & then at church.
Stephanie: What’s going on, my friend? Are you okay?
Frankie Ann: Doing great.
Stephanie: I miss seeing you and catching up. I’m just wondering why you don’t want to get together. Have I done something wrong? // We could just do coffee or tea and skip dinner if you prefer.
Frankie Ann: Stephanie, you’re the only person I know who wants to get together and exchange birthday gifts with someone she hasn’t spoken to on the phone or via text for a year. I find that really odd. Friendships are usually active for a set period of time. Very few are permanent. We stopped having even periodic contact with each other years ago. Our friendship isn’t current or active. That’s okay. We’re investing our time in specific friendships because we want to. Life is short. This isn’t about having a falling out or anything dramatic. I’m simply acknowledging the obvious. We each moved on, and that’s okay. // I’ll see you at church every now and then.
Stephanie: I’m so sorry, Frankie Ann!! I had no idea that you wanted more frequent contact. I always felt like we picked right up where we left off when we got together. Now I feel very bad that I haven’t reached out to you more frequently. I do care about you and your family. I don’t need to exchange birthday gifts. That’s unimportant. Birthdays are just a reason to get together. We’ve walked through a lot of life events and struggles together and I still value our friendship. Again, I’m sorry that I haven’t demonstrated that as I should! [sad face emogi]
Frankie Ann: You didn’t hear me. I didn’t want more frequent contact. If I had, I would’ve initiated it. No apology is needed. We’re investing ourselves in the right places.
Stephanie: [sad face emogi, with a tear coming down]
Unpacking
Stephanie wanted to know why I was basically canceling our long-held, once-a-year dinner tradition, which is totally reasonable. My explanation can be summed up by this sentence: “We each moved on, and that’s okay.” In other words, “This is a natural step based on our previous, mutually-chosen lack of contact. We no longer act like friends. Friends have contact; we don’t.”
Her reply stunned me. It was totally bizarre. “I’m so sorry, Frankie Ann!! I had no idea that you wanted more frequent contact.” Nothing I wrote indicated a desire for more contact. Stephanie—the unbelievably good girl—ignored everything I wrote and rewrote it in her mind to match what she wanted it to be. Revisionist history. Projection. Gaslighting. Whatever you want to call it, we’re talking about very sick stuff. No wonder her youngest daughter doesn’t tell her anything. When someone ignores what you say and pretends you said something else, there’s no reasonable solution for that. It’s maddening and very destructive.
The unbelievably good girl
But remember: Stephanie is an unbelievably good girl. And good girls are liked and approved of. Good girls get commendations and awards. They even get praised in front of the whole church again and again. Good girls are looked up to and admired. Good girls have friends—lots of friends.
The manipulator
So what did Stephanie—the unbelievably good girl—do next? She called one of my friends to get an update on me. Because when you have the current scoop, you can pretend to be a current friend, even though you’re not.
Needless to say, I was livid about Stephanie’s sneakiness. My real friend felt really bad about saying anything and asked for my forgiveness. She received it in ample measure. Stephanie’s manipulation was the problem. My real friend, who thought I was still friends with Stephanie, was acting in good faith.
The truth
Stephanie’s apologetic smokescreen in the text conversation above was meant to exact pity and/or compliance from me. It didn’t work. Her repeated lies revealed her warped mind and motivations. I’m thankful to know the truth. She is a sick puppy.
I compared Stephanie’s texts with the Red Flags for Sociopaths—tactics used by people with various personality disorders. She used 4 out of the 8 warning signs for violence. (Most violence is emotional.)
Red flags in Stephanie’s text
1. Forced teaming
2. Speaking in “we” terms
3. Charm and niceness
4. Discounting the word “No”
I anticipate loan sharking in the near future. Time will tell.
What say you, Peaceful Readers? Are we dealing with a narcissist?
Waiting and seeing
I’ve decided to be as quiet as a mouse and just see what Stephanie—the unbelievably good girl—does next. Will it be a dramatic card or letter? An attempt to bring us a meal after one of my surgeries? Because good girls do good things, don’t you know. Stephanie can’t be left out of The Good Girl Zone when her “friend” has surgery, can she? Certainly not. That would be not good. Not commendable. Not praise-worthy. And we can’t have that, can we, Stephanie?
Personally, I think it’ll be most revealing—and quite entertaining.
Your turn
If you find yourself dreading someone, there are reasons for that. Are you dealing with someone who does and says things you’d never do or say? If so, spend some time unpacking those things. What do they tell you? Put the puzzle pieces together. What does it all mean? How do you need to respond?
I waited a long time to unpack my dread about spending time with Stephanie. I feel relieved now. When I finally said no to something she wanted, her true colors exploded. Not pretty. But—very revealing and helpful. Thanks be to God.
Jesus is our perfect friend—always available—and he never changes.
Coming next: Let’s see how the saga with Stephanie unfolds…. Until next time, thanks for reading and for Choosing Peace.
Truth from The Word: Psalm 25:14-15
Song: “What a Friend We Have in Jesus” by Redeemed Quartet
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