
	National Girlfriend's Month

Happy Girlfriend's Month From Your Girlfriends At S Factor!

How often do you think about a girlfriend, past or present, reach for your phone or computer to say hello, and then - interruption - the demands of your career, relationship and life call you away. Are you missing your girl-time, the support, the non-judgmental ear, the warm embrace? Well it is time to pick up the phone, send an email and re-connect. Send us your favorite girlfriend story and we'll publish it here. Then invite your cherished female friend to come S with ya so you can indulge in our community of connections. Don't let another day go by without spending some special time with a good friend. Bookmark this page. It will be updated often with brand new stories!

Girlfriends Connect

Sheila Kelley to Jeanne....

Jeanne had a movie star smile. She wore her mother’s clothes, which made her look sophisticated and old beyond her 13 years. She was robust and fiery and sure of herself. She reminded me of what Joan of Arc might have looked like circa 1976. Tall for the 9th grade, she was smart as a whip and popular. She was a drum majorette, which meant she came to school during football season in a short, short skirt and twirled a baton in front of the whole school during pep rallies. Her legs were tan and strong while mine were alabaster white and skinny from ballet class. I was new in school and didn’t have any friends to speak of. Jeanne was the girl everyone wanted to be known by. She was royalty. At lunch time I sat alone every day until one Monday in October when I heard a rough, raspy girl’s voice over my shoulder ask, “Can I join you?”

I looked up and there she was. The sun lit the back and side of her head. She was looking right at me. I swear to God I could hear angels sing. The whole school was staring at us thinking, "Who is that new girl the star of Wendover Jr. High had deigned to talk to?"

Jeanne sat down beside me and told me everything about herself. Then, she asked me every possible question about myself. We connected. Kismet. Lightening. Electric. She was the kite and I was the key. She was the most popular girl in school, who could have had any best friend she wanted, and she chose me. From that moment on we were inseparable, through high school and on into college.

Life has taken both of us on a wild, winding and sometimes wicked road. There have been years that have gone by without any contact between us. But we each know that the other would be there if needed. It is an ancient friendship built on time, shared history, laughter and tears.

Some thirty years since that day at lunch in junior high school I’m sitting on a bench in Central Park with my kids listening to a beautiful a capella voice singing "Waiting On A Friend" when I hear over my shoulder, “Can I join you?”

Michelle to Val & Staci....

I had heard of S Factor for years. Super intimidated, I never thought I'd actually take a class but secretly wished I had the courage. About four months ago, that day came. I was at the Thompson Hotel in Beverly Hills with my friend Val celebrating our mutual friend's US citizenship. A typical LA scene, the room was filled with gorgeous women. I was mesmerized by their beauty but more with their seeming ease and grace in their bodies. Val and I were chatting when suddenly our conversation turned very real. Despite our gushing compliments about each other's outfits, we each disclosed how they were not what they seemed. I was wearing a dress over jeans because I wouldn't dare show my legs, and she was wearing a long top over jeans that wouldn't button so she had a maternity belt to pull things together! We laughed so hard we nearly fell out of our chairs. But in all seriousness, we were ridiculous. Both of us a size two, recognized we had issues and vowed resolution.

We started talking about S Factor. Each of us had heard the same things: pole dancing, stripping and lap dancing while wearing practically nothing and six inch stripper heels. You kidding me? I was absolutely terrified but knew this was my answer, because we had also heard how empowering and liberating it was for women. Val and I agreed to try an introductory class. Meanwhile, another one of my close girlfriends Staci had also been invited to try S that very same week by a friend of hers named Janelle who happens to be an S instructor. Kismet. Against world class excuses, the three of us showed up for our intro. Practically wearing burkas, we were dressed head to toe in long sleeved black tee shirts and yoga pants, though I think Staci even added a hoodie.

So there we were, in our very first S class, completely out of control. Not in a good way. We (I can say "we" because we have discussed this in detail), were so in our heads that I'm shocked we didn't walk out. The first time Janelle told us to touch ourselves (I'm talking about an innocent caress on our thighs), I thought I was going to faint. My mind was plagued by thoughts that it was wrong and bad. Sadly, it felt foreign to behave in any manner not consistent with a goofball on a dance floor. That was me my entire life. Okay, I know I've had sexy moments but it's never been my thing to sexualize anything. I blamed it on my mother. I convinced myself that I only looked good when I covered my body because that's what she did.

After the intro, the three of us sat dazed on the floor unable to move. We found it impossible to believe that we would ever be able to move our bodies sensually, much less take ourselves seriously while doing it. We deflected with humor, made fun of ourselves and tried everything to talk ourselves out of signing up for an eight week class. Val and I were scared but open to at least trying, and really wanted Staci to join us. That's when she broke down and started sobbing, which made us cry because we related to everything she was saying. As she was sharing painful memories of when she made an unconscious decision not to be sexy and sensual, we just nodded through our tears because we understood. It was easier to be the funny girl, or play the intellect, or even the prude than to embrace our sexuality. It was time to break free.

It's been four months now and we are just about to graduate Level 2. We are blown away by how far we've come. The sense of empowerment was what compelled me to enroll but the impact was underrated. The room is safe. Low red lights, no mirrors and an incredible effusive teacher who inspires us beyond words. We have fun. For the first time in my life I feel tuned into my body and the magic of being a woman. I appreciate my curves, feel comfortable, in fact amazing in my own skin, and love that I'm able to lose myself in a sultry song. I dance in tiny hot pants and bare feet, Val rocks the pole in thigh high fishnets and Staci slays us with her scantily clad moves. If anyone would've ever said that we'd be doing the things we do in class, we would've thought they were high. We love this class. S Factor is for every woman, everywhere. Even my 62 year old mother. Just the other night she was at my house and after showing her the S Crawl, she said she wanted to try it. My Mom! There are no words to express my gratitude for the full circle effect.

Hope to Pearl….

I never do things like this, but wanted to share the story of MY best girlfriend. Pearl and I met in acting school in the Midwest and we immediately hit it off. She was a year ahead of me and of course all the things I wasn't. :) I was a gawky freckled-faced redhead from the farm and she was this Polynesian beauty from D.C.. (Her heritage was Japanese/Southern Black Baptist to be exact.) Talented, smart, kind, confident....and of course someone men just fawned over. And then there was me...shy me. Best friends we became (somehow) and when she moved to NYC, I knew a year later I *had* to follow. We lived separate lives at first and I had a very difficult time.

I had several bad things happen to me and we lost touch for two years. But, determined to find out what happened....she came looking for me and in a sense, saved my life as she dragged me out of a bad situation in Brooklyn and *made* me become her roommate. Like Mutt and Jeff we were and yet an indescribable bond grew with each year. She was truly like a big sister. When I became "fat"...she helped me lose weight. When I became mentally unstable....she held my hand until the demons went away. We shared doggies, families. More than once I'd find a little Japanese lady (her mother) in our kitchen making kapi-maki for me, the farm girl who only knew scalloped potatoes and ham (growing up). It was a blessed friendship and indeed....one that lasted years even when we'd not see each other as she got married. Had a child. Our lives were inexplicably intertwined even when we never talked. I've never since had a girlfriend such as that.

Long story short, six years ago our mutual friend showed up at my doorstep and said, "You have to come *now*.". Pearl had a stroke at her job and was not going to make it. We all needed to say our goodbyes. Seeing my beautiful girlfriend laying in the hospital, hooked up to tubes and machines....not knowing her loved ones were there, was one of the worst days of my life. Losing her that day was like losing a piece of myself. I believe God has a reason for everything, but I couldn't understand that one. Why her? Why not me? Such a loss of one of the best and brightest women the world has ever known. It was so tragic, and she would have loved S Factor too. She was a dancer. In fact, it was often quite amusing when she'd try to teach me the hula. It was quite the comedy routine. I think I burned the video years ago. :)

Anyway, (and sorry this is so long)....but time heals all wounds and I'd like to close on a positive note. Maybe someone else has lost a girlfriend and they can find inspiration from my story. She left behind a 12 year old little boy who's grown up to be an amazing young man with his mother's smile. The two of us girlfriends became his "aunties" and we did our best to be there for him these last few years. He's brilliant and talented just like his Mama. Going off to Yale on a full scholarship and I just KNOW she's looking down from Heaven smiling away. I always tell people....that just 'cause someone's not *here* (this earth as we know it)....it doesn't mean they're not *near*. You see, I believe in angels and sometimes I'll stop and hear Pearlie's voice calling out to me. Right on the streets of New York....on the subway....and I'll stop and listen. (And then I'll tell her son what she said. It's uncanny how sometimes it's exactly what he needed to hear.) People think I'm a little crazy when I say this, but then not everybody's had a girlfriend like mine. Someone who made me better. Someone who helped me grow. Someone who believed in me when I didn't believe in anything. And funny enough, I'm becoming all those things she hoped I'd be (and more), and I know she's watching from Heaven with glee and just so damn proud (the late bloomer that I am). :) And pleased that she made an impact on my life even tho' she wasn't around to share all my victories. Where is she now? She's the twinkle in her son's eye. She's the spark in my heart when sometimes I get discouraged. I'm grateful every day of my life for her and will continue to share her legacy through my work….as she'll always be a part of me. She's my "angel." And you know them….they're *always* floating around. Keeping an eye on us and making sure we're o.k.. A best girlfriend is a treasure. A precious diamond who glows brightly even from afar. They light up your life even when no words are spoken for years. Trust that gift….they don't come around very often. And if you've lost touch....smile at the memories. I know I do. Best girlfriends are never forgotten!

Thanks for listening.

From Genoa to Catrice….

This story is about a friendship that has developed from the 3rd grade, high school, college, marriages, children, moving out of town, divorces, sickness and lots of laughter and good times.

I met my friend Catrice at Holy Angeles grammar school in Chicago. I was sitting at my desk when the teacher stated that there will be a new student in class. Well, when Catrice came in and sat right next to me all the boys in class thought that she was pretty and I thought whatever, I just wanted a new person to boss around. After class going to the lunchroom I showed her around and from that moment, we became best of friends. I thought that this girl is really cool and a lot of fun. When our friendship grew our mothers became good friends as well. And whenever our mothers needed to get away our mothers could rely on one another. Now I'm her oldest daughter's (who is now 17) godmother. Who knew that this skinny girl, who I thought I could boss around, would become my spiritual sister?

There is no greater gift and blessing than that of friendship, it is truly priceless!

From Caroline to Gilly….

Many moons ago when I was slumped over my typewriter (remember those days) bemoaning my terrible luck with men, a co-worker suggested that I meet her sister as we had "so much in common." I arranged to meet Gilly on Hampstead Heath, which was a mutually convenient location between our tiny "single girl in London" apartments. We bonded instantly and enjoyed a myriad of adventures in which we shared clothes, beds, make-up and men. Those were heady, carefree days when Gilly's metabolism permitted her to wolf down chocolate bars while standing in line for pizza dinners in posh Knightsbridge restaurants where we would invariably make fluttering eye contact with some guy who would end up covering our check.

We took holidays in Ibiza and Paris, got free tickets to rock concerts via my television job, dressed fabulously on a shoestring budget and did nothing remotely grown up or sensible for approximately ten years.

Then I got married.

Then I had a baby.

Then I had another baby….and stopped working.

Gilly and I appeared to have little in common as our lives became polar opposites but we still remained the closest of friends, making allowances for one another's lives in order to maintain our relationship. I craved the escape of "single" nights out with Gilly, while she cozied up in the embrace of family life in my home. The one constant that remained was Gilly's lousy luck with men. By the time I relocated to the US five years ago, all grown up as a mother and "executive wife," Gilly was still having hopeless relationships, and behaving like the young, single gal that she no longer was.

This difference in our lifestyles, coupled with the immense physical distance separating us finally brought a shift in the relationship. As we spent time apart I realized that we now had little in common. I'm sad to confess that the last time my soul mate visited I became so irritated hearing about and dealing with the same old stuff that I began counting the days until she left. Admittedly, hosting a guest who refuses to drive in Los Angeles is just plain crazy. I did that for three weeks and swore I would never invite Gilly back. The very traits of her personality that once seemed quirky and charming now irritated the hell out of me: the broken record about bad relationships, the interfering in my parenting techniques, the tardiness, the messiness (why did my home look like a tornado had ripped through it whenever she was around?). And then there was her air of delusion regarding IVF treatment. With looming unemployment and no sign of a potential baby daddy, my soul mate was having treatment with a plan to raise a child alone - at the age of 46.

Following the visit, I felt that there were things that needed to be said and home truths that had to be faced, so I took a deep breath and wrote. The response was swift and painful to read - Gilly was desperately hurt but I felt terribly justified and so we reached a kind of stalemate, remaining politely distanced from one another for some time.

Back in March, in full "soccer mom" mode, I made the trek to San Bernardino for yet another tournament and since my son was in his private, iPod world I decided to pass the time making catch-up calls. Inexplicably, I hit Gilly's number on speed dial, realized my error and was about to hang up when I heard her voice - across the ocean, across the years, across all the upset and the fall-out.

Initially, the conversation was tense but I realized that we shared too much history to maintain such hostility and the further I drove the closer we became. We shared news of friends and family, travel and adventures. Eventually it seemed safe to broach the subject of Gilly's disastrous personal life and I discovered that during my absence that a whole new chapter had begun. There was still no reliable man, no loving relationship and no baby daddy….but thanks to the marvels of fertility treatment Gilly was finally pregnant. As the 210 Freeway rolled by, my jaw literally dropped and remained so for quite some time.

My soul mate had finally got her wish and despite everything - the distance, the upsets, the wildly different lifestyles there was no mistaking the love and happiness that I felt for her.

I'm so pleased that Gilly is still my crazy, adorable friend, the foil to my sensible, measured self, and because my girlfriend is incapable of doing anything in a conventional manner she's having two babies instead of one!

There is no greater gift and blessing than that of friendship, it is truly priceless!