Give Me a Break:Men have football. Women have bitching sessions. Well, not all men. And not all women. But when in the pub or having a few glasses of wine at home to take the edge off, there are some women who seem to regard other people's lives as a spectator sport. Judgmental and lacking in compassion, there are some women who are other women's worst enemies.
My mother used to say "never trust a gossip", because while, over a bottle of wine, gossips may seem your best, most entertaining friend, you can be sure that once your back is turned they'll be gossiping about you too. A good friend, she used to say, doesn't talk about other people, which means that when you're not in the room, she won't be talking about you. Such true confidantes are rare, so when you find them, treasure them.
I was reminded of her advice over the weekend when a friend told me of how dispiriting she's found it to be the wife of an extremely wealthy man. She happened to fall in love with this guy and have children with him, but basically she just wants to live her life the way she would have if she'd never met him. Her ambitions are the same, which is why she's pursuing the career she always wanted while also being the devoted mother of young children. But instead of gaining the support or admiration of women in her circle, she finds herself criticised.
"Women think that if you're married to a wealthy man and have children, you shouldn't work outside the home. They assume that any woman that doesn't have to work shouldn't be working if she has children. If you're working, you're neglecting your family," says my friend.
It hurts her to hear this, just as it hurts to hear gossip about her husband and his business dealings. Because she and her husband have a public profile, they find themselves discussed and dissected. It's a lonely place to be. She reached out to me and I haven't betrayed her confidence (she doesn't mind me telling the bare bones of her story in this column). She's healthy mentally because she's able to express herself to people she can trust, people she knows will give her sensible feedback.
We women can be as hard on each other as we are on ourselves. There's a perfection culture for women that makes us all believe we have to present the perfect face all the time, and this is bad for our mental health. Being able to be vulnerable is important to staying sane, but if you feel you can't trust the people you should be able to be vulnerable with, you can feel pressured to live up to an image that reflects only your good bits, and none of your nasty bits. Sealed up inside you, your nasty bits grow like fungus.
Lots of women feel this way. It's a major factor in depression and suicidal thoughts, says Caroline McGuigan of the support organisation, No Panic Ireland. The pressure to present a perfect image makes women frightened of telling others how scared or inadequate they truly feel. And when women fear being exposed and have no one to turn to, they are more likely to isolate themselves under the duvet with little helpers such as prescription medication and white wine from lunchtime until bedtime.
Reaching out is difficult when the fear of being judged is intense. This is something everyone feels to varying degrees - men and women, boys and girls. True friendship allows you to let your guard down and be real, at least for as long as it takes to drink a cup of tea. Getting it off your chest helps to dissolve that lump of shame, guilt or overwhelming emotion we all feel sometimes.
In her book, Shoot the Damn Dog(Bloomsbury, £15.99), Sally Brampton writes about how she was saved by friendship from severe depression and the alcohol-dependency she developed in an effort to deal with bad feelings. Other people who'd been through it - people she'd met in psychiatric hospitals - helped her put these feelings in perspective, even to laugh at herself. Her true, long-term friends were also there for her when she emerged from the other side of her madness.
For every Brampton who has found liberation in being open and vulnerable, there are 100 women who can't get that far. They're so afraid of being exposed that they don't seek help and never find those true friends. Many of Brampton's professional friends - people she knew from her stellar career as a magazine editor, novelist and journalist - warned her against writing her story. It would destroy her, they said, meaning it would destroy her public image. The opposite happened. Her openness enhanced her image and her book will help a lot of people.
It proves Caroline McGuigan's point, that maybe we are now living in a world where vulnerability is becoming acceptable. McGuigan was made a social entrepreneur of the year after divulging her own attempts at suicide and setting up No Panic. She's never looked back. Brampton and McGuigan would advise that, no matter how bad you feel, don't hide under the duvet or behind a drink. Find people you can trust. Share your story. Sometimes that means coming out publicly with who you are, as these two women have done. And they don't regret it.
But not everyone is a media communicator. Sometimes it just means being honest with one other person. As Brampton writes: "Life is about connection. There is nothing else."
