Sacred Poop Space
I used to hold girls’ hair back while they threw up from drinking, and would rub their back and tell them it was going to be okay because they thought they were dying but really they were just throwing up.
Now I hold my baby on the toilet while he poops and rub his back and tell him it’s all going to be okay because the face he makes tells me he thinks he’s dying but really he’s just pooping.
I have actually enjoyed both activities (far less drunk while holding the baby on the toilet though I might have to rethink that one) and it occurs to me that the women’s bathroom at a bar is one of the few places where women can be uninhibited in their maternal and sisterly desires.
The women’s bathroom at the bar is where everyone is supportive and kind. You do not pick fights in the women’s bathroom at the bar, you compliment girls and tell them they’re going to be okay and maybe they shouldn’t date the DJ. Girls hug and cry and perfect strangers will hold your hair while you’re throwing up or fix your dress for you because you can’t reach the zipper. I don’t know why this is the case. Perhaps the combination of being slightly drunk and also very vulnerable because everyone is going to hear you drunk poop creates a sorority unlike anything else in our culture.
Either way, the bathroom at the bar is sacred space.
And so is our guest bathroom now. Sacred poop space. One day probably also vomit space. Then the circle of life will be complete.
The men's bathroom is a veryyyy different place
This brings up the feels. There is something beautiful about that moment when someone's dress is torn and everyone is going through their purses finding abandoned safety pins MacGyvering outfits back together or when a stranger is crying and everyone there instantly is on her side or when someone starts her cycle unexpectedly and there starts a chain game where everyone is asking each other for supplies.
I like how you notice the nurturing in those moments as practice or expression. It is a good and kind observation.
Now if only someone would make a stall without a gap in the hinges that someone can stick their head through. Loo friendships are one thing but no one needs to see all the goods.