When I was at university a close friend of mine, Kylie, got engaged. Not only was I to be a bridesmaid at her wedding but I also had the pleasure of organising her hen’s night. We were typically rowdy 23-year-olds and of course the night — complete with three male strippers — got completely out of hand. One of the guests was a striking 25-year-old woman called Helen, a childhood friend of the bride. I had never met her before, although I had heard so much about her from Kylie — I certainly knew her to be a party girl through and through! Helen and I hit it off immediately, dancing and laughing and hugging all night like old friends on a big night out.
Up until that night I had never considered having a relationship with a woman before, but the vibe with Helen was somehow different, and together with the effects of several bottles of champagne, my inhibitions were lost by the wee hours of the morning. Blame it on the booze or the steamy influence of the three guys — well, one thing led to another and before I knew what I was doing I found myself in the midst of a very romantic encounter!
The next morning, waking up in a strange bed with a strange woman I was thoroughly embarrassed. I was at an age where image was everything and my conservative upbringing did not allow for same gender one night stands! In retrospect it’s my little secret which I secretly enjoy, but at the time I was mortified in case I had been seen by any of our friends. Luckily for me, it appeared that the alcohol had affected everyone that was present and although I walked around with my head down for months after that, I seemed to have gotten away with it.
Six years have elapsed since then and I am now happily married myself and have a beautiful one-year-old. I have a very close-knit family life and most of my time revolves around family these days. Last weekend I visited my parents, as usual, for our regular Sunday barbecue. We were to also meet my tearaway older brother’s new girlfriend. I was shattered when I arrived at their house to discover that his new partner is none other than Helen — a little older and a little cheekier than I remember her from before. I froze as we were introduced and recoiled somewhat, a deep blush spreading across my face. Helen smiled at me, but she was equally shocked and the afternoon was very strained.
My brother — who has always adored me — called me that night, devastated by what he perceived to be my instant dislike of his new girlfriend. He has been seeing her for a few months and is desperately in love with her — he is even considering “popping the question” over Christmas! I tried to reassure him that I did like her but he wouldn’t hear a word of it, insisting that we had behaved like two jealous women and that there was a visibly bad vibe between us.
No-one knows the truth and I have no idea what to do or say. I have considered speaking to Helen to clear the air but I know that it would take months to feel normal around her, and vice versa for her. I fear that by the time we are able to treat each other “normally”, the weird tension between us will be noticed by the whole family. I certainly can’t confide in anyone — least of all my very conservative husband — and I now live in daily dread every time the phone rings and it is family calling.
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