I lost an old friend a year ago, and I’d like to write about her today. We weren’t besties, but we were coworkers who had heart-to-hearts. She had my back more than once. I woke up this morning smiling as I thought about some of the memories, but right now I feel a little sad.
I miss what used to be but can never be again. I miss the Los Angeles Field Office crew that showed me what real friends looked like (and they were a far cry from anything I ever had in college or before).
Today, I’m going to talk about my friend Steph who passed away.
I met her for the first time at a hotel pool in Silver Spring, Maryland in June 2007. I’d just flown in for my first week of Secret Service agent training. Lindsey, another woman in my class, introduced me to Steph. It turned out all three of us were assigned to the Los Angeles Field Office. Steph was a few months ahead of us in training, on the tail end of her time at the training center while Lindsey and I were in our first week.
Both women were a few years older than me, and I was skeptical and intimidated by both of them.
As we caught a few rays at the pool that day, Steph gave Lindsey and I some pointers and advice about training. She was tough, and I didn’t know I could be tough yet. She was accomplished, coming from a big-girl job already, and I was just starting my first real job. She was really strong and athletic, and I had no idea what I was capable of yet. But yet she was still nice to me, and my college experience did not always include the girls being nice to me.
It’s weird how immaturity and insecurity can make women of “equal” title and rank in the workplace compete so viciously as though one woman’s success negates the others hard work. It was my first workplace experience where that wasn’t the case.
I often talk about how I was “put in my place” by strong amazing women early in my Secret Service career. I was an overcompetitive turd at one point in my life. Like I said, girls hadn’t been nice to me before, so it was my tendency to avoid them and always (always) be cautious with anything I said. The women of the Secret Service in nice (and sometimes more blunt) ways let me know the following:
Get over yourself. Real women aren’t out to get each other or “beat” each other at everything. It’s not always a competition. We push each other and we’re better for it in the end. At any point in your life, look to your left and look to your right. There will probably be another woman trying to move forward. She might need a hug and a word of encouragement. Give them and keep moving forward.
After we all graduated from training and got flung into the 2008 Presidential Campaign, we found ourselves traveling a LOT. I had never had a job that required business or neat casual attire. All of my jobs involved swimming and fitness. There were dress codes we were expected to adhere to when we traveled. I showed up to the airport dressed slightly too casually, and Steph and another female agent pointed it out to me. They weren’t mean about it at all, but they let me know. I was really embarrassed. I probably made some excuse. I don’t remember. I was afraid they’d go talk about me behind my back. That’s what girls usually did. Be nice to my face and talk smack as soon as I wasn’t around. But this would not be the first time Steph or other women would set me straight on the job. Looking back, I appreciate it. Despite the embarrassment of screwing up, I was learning that not all women were catty college girls.
The years went by and we all became better at our jobs.
Steph typically worked out at the office gym in the mornings. I typically went swimming or to Krav Maga classes before work. Most mornings, Steph and I (and a couple others) would all wind up in the women’s locker room post-workout. Most of the time we didn’t talk very much because of blow dryers and showers going. But if anyone ever needed to vent or get something of her chest, we were all ears. I learned more about Steph those mornings. Sometimes she seemed a little sad and lonely, but she had a huge and generous heart. She was quick to volunteer for any community outreach events the office would have. She was quick to help others who had something difficult going on in their lives.
She was the woman who showed up even when she didn’t have to.
I don’t know that I would say I was a loner in the field office, but I definitely didn’t attend a lot of the gatherings with coworkers. Most of my work friends, including Steph, lived in South Bay which was not near where I lived. People rarely came my way, and I understood the idea of avoiding the LA traffic when we weren’t working. My house was not the gathering place for a party. Steph was usually present for the gatherings/parties. While our relationship wasn’t social in that sense, she was still my friend.
We also had another factor that bonded us together from time to time. We both had long blonde hair, and it wasn’t uncommon for upper management to confuse the two of us. In fact, I was once called into the office of one of the Assistant to the Special Agent in Charge’s office about my career path. When I got to his office, he said, “Have a seat, Stephanie.” I told Steph she might get transfer orders to an assignment she might not want because upper management could keep the blondes straight.
Steph and I were the only women on our agency’s Baker to Vegas team (a long relay similar to the Ragnar races) the year I ran it.
A few months after this race, I did my first Half Ironman. Steph had done one the year or two before, and she was very uplifting leading up to my race and even on race day. She went out of her way to be encouraging to me and out of her way to ask about events in my life.
The last time I saw Steph was just a few days before my divorce was final. She had moved to D.C. by then and asked if I wanted to have breakfast or lunch with her while she was in town. It was the only time she and I got together (just the two of us) outside of work. She knew I was in a bad place in life and in need of a friend. I would leave the Secret Service a month later, and I had a sinking feeling at the time that it was going to be the right move to leave. But by then, all my friends were agents, and I was having a hard time pulling the plug on the job.
I didn’t know then that it would be the last time I saw her.
We talked after that from time to time. I think we tried to meet up in NYC at one point, but her work schedule was nuts that week and it didn’t happen. She continued to reach out to me after I left the job, and sometimes I blew her off. I was hurting so badly, and I pushed her away on more than one occasion.
She showed up when she didn’t have to, but I didn’t let her in. It sounds so selfish of me to think about now. I was shutting everyone out then. I was not well to say the least. But I wish I’d let my friend in. I wish I’d been a better friend to her than I was.
As I remember my friend today, it reinforces my drive to be a good and real woman to the women around me. There’s so much hate and chaos in the world right now.
The world doesn’t need another catty girl fight. It needs more people like Steph who show up for others who need help or even just a hug. It needs more people like Steph who will speak up to help someone else be better. It needs more women who will look back occasionally while they’re moving forward in life. I was the girl behind her at one point who needed some guidance, and she gave me a little pull in the right direction. She was always there for all those years, and I hope she knows how much that meant even if I showed it poorly in my struggles.