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“I hate Amber Cunningham. For the record, the girl I’ve chosen to call Amber Cunningham isn’t actually Amber Cunningham. Her real name is Eliza. And before Eliza she was Ashley, and before Ashley, she was Jamie, and before Jamie she was Kelsey—my first arch nemesis at church, dating all the way back to church primary school. If this were a biblical story it would go like this: Kelsey begat Jamie who begat Ashley who begat Eliza who begat Amber Cunningham. I lump these women into one because I resent them for the same reason: They’re crazy dogmatic Christians on a quest to find celestial popularity. An Amber is like a Heather, only she’s attacking your spiritual worthiness and your dress size at the same time.”
—Elna Baker, The New York Regional Mormon Singles Halloween Dance
I have an Amber Cunningham (who for the record, is not actually Amber Cunningham) in my life. Today, I’m no longer haunted by inadequacy when we cross paths—even as she scans the room for someone more important to talk to.
I say a little prayer for her as I walk away: God, please bless "Amber." But God, why must she tilt her head so far to the right when she says hello? This compels me to dive for her head—like a glass of water that’s been knocked off the kitchen counter.
I didn’t always have a sense of humor about “Amber.” But as I faithfully confessed my feelings to God, I discovered that honest and consistent confession delivered me from the darkness of inadequacy.
Time spent conversing with God is time spent valued—never underestimate the power of his divine presence. In His Light, my sense of humor snuffs out judgement. In His Light, I learn to empathize. (God alone knows the unseen pressures behind beauty- queen-smiles.) In His Light, I can see where I've smiled plenty of my own fake smiles, minus the head-tilt. Alas, some things remain a mystery.
In His Light, I can tell you about a time in my life when I had no regard for how my actions stole the smile from another:
Inappropriate Friendship circa 1998
I didn’t intend to hurt Lori. But I did. Her live-in boyfriend was my on-again, off-again live-in boyfriend’s twelve-step sponsor. I hope I’m not offending delicate Christian sensibilities. Sadly, I’m not the only Christian woman who’s been physically intimate with a man she could not call husband. A devastating choice many of us make from a state of survival or neediness.
I had a long list of needs. I needed my boyfriend to stay clean and sober. I needed my children to not be traumatized by my dysfunctional lifestyle. I needed sane people to stop judging the insane choices I made. And when my boyfriend disappeared for days at a time, I needed the emotional support of Lori’s boyfriend, Mark.
He knew firsthand the pain and frustration caused by addiction. What began as one person sharing their experience, strength, and hope quickly morphed into an intimate friendship. We spoke on the phone every day. He hugged me when I cried. It never once occurred to me that I was breaking another woman’s heart. It also never occurred to me that I was capturing his. I’m tempted to call myself insensitive, except this would imply that I was aware of the hurt I’d caused, only to dismiss it. Truth is, I lived within a narcissistic Narnia with zero awareness for anyone’s feelings but my own. Three years later, I reaped what I had sown.
Our baby was six-months old, and my boyfriend’s addiction was in full swing. It was time to be off-again. The plan was for him to clean up and rejoin our home. But eight months later, I stood outside his apartment and used a key to carve the word cheater onto his car. I look back on our relationship and marvel at the dysfunction. You can remove yourself from a crazy environment, but that’s just geography.
I later learned that the young woman he’d gotten involved with had just gone through a painful breakup. Her fiancé had broken off their engagement. So, two people sharing their pain bonded with no regard for anyone else’s. The truth is, neither of them would have gotten involved in this way had they known the love God has for them. The same was true for me and Lori’s boyfriend.
Today, I’m forgiven. But I’ve not forgotten the pain and destruction that “friendships” of this sort cause. By the grace of God, I no longer need to use others to obtain a sense of value. Elizabeth Gilbert said it best in Eat Pray Love: “So be lonely, Liz. Learn your way around loneliness. Make a map of it. Sit with it, for once in your life. Welcome to the human experience. But never again use another person’s body or emotions as a scratching post for your own unfulfilled yearnings.” Yikes!
Stuff worth considering:
- Do you have an Amber Cunningham in your life? Write about it. No need to worry about your Bible-study group reading your journal unless you, like, leave it open on the coffee table when you go to the bathroom. (I'm kidding.)
- Are you an Amber Cunningham? Don’t answer this question until you’ve first asked God on bent knees. If He answers yes, then ask Him to bring to mind, the name of the woman whom you most likely did not intend to cause pain. Pray for her.
- Have you ever implored the emotional support of a man who was already spoken for? Are you now? Once again, these questions should not be answered in haste. Assume a humble posture and ask God to reveal the circumstances where you disregarded another woman’s feelings. Confess. Repent. Make an amends when appropriate, meaning it will not cause further harm.
- And lastly, you gotta be willing to offer your own broken heart grace and empathy and love. It's hard for anyone who knows me today to believe who I was back then. But it's true. I did those things. And I am forgiven. As women, and as we heal, we've got to rise up with more respect for ourselves and one another. We're all SO worth it.
Published on Tuesday, August 19, 2014 @ 12:27 PM CDT