Mean Girls
I’m working on a program on the mean girl experience. Sadly, pretty much every woman, everywhere, has an inkling of what I’m referring to with that phrase. The nuance might be different; how we’ve experienced this phenomenon is different. The fact that it exists, though? That requires no explanation.
The fact that Rosalind Wiseman’s book Queen Bees and Wannabes spun off into the iconic film, “Mean Girls”, with such relatable characters, speaks to the salience of this. But the first edition of the book came out in 2002, and the film in 2004. Why work on a program now?
As a woman who just turned 50, I thought I’d be on the other side of this. And as that woman and as a counselor, I’m seeing evidence of this phenomenon and a need for an antidote to it across life domains. I listen to clients; some have shared mean girl stories as part of the background or context for a presenting issue, and others have reported this kind of betrayal or rejection as the meat of the presenting issue. I see it in friends, who are experiencing this in some aspect of their own lives or through the feelings of their daughters. I hear of it from my daughter, whose friends’ friends provide a seemingly endless supply of anecdotes. If you’re looking, you’ll see this everywhere, and not just in young girls.
Counselors are big on assessing personal bias in our case conceptualizations and perceptions. So, I think it’s natural that I’ve asked myself, “Is it me?” Is there something that I’m putting out in the world that is calling for or making welcome this kind of behavior? I’ll spare you the mental gymnastics that comprise that answer. But my conclusion is that I’m not that important. It’s not possible that I’m so influential that I could be inviting mean girl behavior experienced by my daughter, my nieces, my friends, and my clients. I’ve judged that even if I can be accused of putting something out there in my own life to account for the behavior I’ve encountered, the only thing I’m guilty of putting out there, when it comes to the wide range of other experiences, is a willingness and availability to listen attentively and respond authentically.
A snippet to illustrate: A friend’s daughter, we’ll call her Beth, recently went abroad for several weeks for a college academic project. She lived in a two bedroom apartment with a woman she did not know, Anne, who was also in her major at her home college. At some point early on, Anne decided, for some reason, to simply ignore Beth. Beth would come out of her room in the morning, say, “Good Morning” to Anne and get only silence. So, what could have been an uplifting and enjoyable adventure, was scarred by the discomfort of that experience and the need to intentionally seek out others with whom to have her international adventure.
Another: I was recently at a friend’s house, and one woman, Jill, was talking openly about another woman, Brooke. Jill felt left out of a plan that Brooke had arranged the previous weekend. Apparently, that made it “open season” on Brooke. Jill, an educated, accomplished professional in her 50’s, felt it necessary to state her case, at a party, a full week later. Such is the power of being slighted. Jill thought she was softening her message by clarifying that much of what she shared was from what she’d heard about Brooke, not what she, herself, had experienced.
For Jill to carry this with her and bring it up there and then speaks to the salience of this issue in women’s lives. The potential and power of friendship has the ability to both elevate and obliterate women.
I think it’s part of the female experience to need to process our feelings out loud. I think it’s understandable to talk with a trusted friend about an experience you’ve had that has affected you in some way - to get perspective or validation, to attempt to soothe one’s feelings. Where the line is between this and outright gossip is for another day. I think we can all agree, though, that it’s not ideal to talk publicly and unkindly about someone who’s not present, based on what one has heard.
Add to this …ongoing stories about the painful experiences of another friend’s perfectly delightful 5th grade daughter, tales about sorority rushing and pledging from my daughter’s friends who are spread out at different colleges, and narratives from the clients, who have, at some point, questioned their self-worth as a result of mean girl experiences, and I conclude that this issue can use more attention. We really can do better. I applaud the researchers and practitioners who have written on this topic, whose writing I am systematically plowing through right now. It’ll take some work to bring the intellectual discussion about the why and what down to an experiential level of implementation of strategies and skills; but even just a bit of progress is the goal.
