Charlie Brown Deserves Better Friends

As I sat in my living room last Thursday watching Charlie Brown Thanksgiving, a realization began to manifest itself in the depths of my mental workings. One that poked at the very core of the introspective work I’ve done, on the patterns I’ve noticed and broken, found and corrected. I’d watched the movie Thanksgiving in and Thanksgiving out for all the years of my life, yet this year was different. This year the title turned from Charlie Brown Thanksgiving to Charlie Brown Deserves New Friends (and a Sense of Self Worth, While He’s at It). The main problem I have is with Peppermint Patty. For those of you not indoctrinated into the Charlie Brown cult through your formative years, I’ll catch you up to speed. Peppermint Patty is a charming, assertive lady-friend of Charlie Brown’s, who is frequently portrayed trying to convince him of their undying love for each other. Truly a classy broad, with great respect for social cues and personal boundaries. In the special, Patty invites herself and her friends Marcie and Franklin over to Charlie Brown’s house for a Thanksgiving dinner that doesn’t exist. Regardless of the boundary crossed with this invite, Charlie whips up a dinner the envy of eight year olds far and wide: buttered toast, jelly beans, pretzel sticks, and popcorn. Yet even after he bends to her will, whipping up a table setting and dinner for seven on an eight year old’s budget, Patty is disgusted and enraged, berating Charlie for the lack of conventional Thanksgiving dish. Charlie leaves the table, and Patty sends Marcie after him to apologize for her. Patty then swoops in and assumes all is well. Charlie forgives her. Point-blank, Peppermint Patty is a dictionary entry narcissist. She wants her cake and to eat it too. She believes she is worthier than thou, and she finds power in manipulating her friends to her will in order to get exactly what she wants. Anything less than compliance is rude, offensive, and threatening. That’s where Charlie is stuck. He doesn’t have the self worth to know he deserves better, that a true friend would respect his boundaries and uplift him. That the love he gets from Patty is conditional to how much of his energy and attention he gives her. Now, I know this cycle all too well. That people-pleaser in contact with a toxic friend cycle. That cycle that leaves you feeling worthless, scared of the loss of love and acceptance if the demands of your toxic friend aren’t met. That is one tough cycle to break. It takes bringing to light the dark parts. It takes hard internal work; work to find and bolster that validation and love from within your being. It takes setting and reinforcing boundaries, and cutting out anyone who doesn’t respect them. When you’ve grown up around people like Patty, it may feel comfortable to conform to their wishes, to keep their pedestal nice and shiny. You may not believe that you too deserve your own shiny pedestal, that everybody does. It feels safe to put someone else up there because any other way means risking the acceptance and love that comes from pedestal-shining. Seeing your reflection on someone else’s pedestal feels a whole lot safer than standing tall on your own, basking in yourself as your own creation. So Charlie, I get it. I see where you are; I’ve known your pain. And I know that you, my friend, deserve so much better.