Ninety percent of what I know about girl friendships come from what I’ve seen on television. Girls only cared about shopping and boys. I learned that watching “Cluelesss” and “Mean Girls.” Their cliques were as cut-throat as high fashion. The girls actually hated each other. I watched popularity destroy Cady Heron and Regina George. I watched Peyton Sawyer and Brooke Davis ruin their friendship over boys. The media convinced me I wanted no part of that.
Still, I was jealous of the other girls and their best friends. I wanted one of those friendships that started in early grammar school and lasted into adulthood. I wanted a Kimmy Gibbler. A couple times I came pretty close. Now this is no disrespect to the girls I did call my best friends at some point. We have some great memories, and I have no doubt they’re incredible women today. But the fact that they’re no longer in my life tells me it wasn’t meant to be.
In middle school, I told myself I was one of the guys. I became one of the guys. They were low-maintenance friends. They didn’t hold it against me if I couldn’t do what they wanted to do. I could tease them right back and they feared my sass, which made me feel tough and independent. Playing video games and sports made me feel cool. Talking about test scores and grades made me realize I was just as smart as any guy. I learned not to talk about my feelings to my friends. I would keep that to myself and my family. The other girls thought I only hung around guys because I liked the attention, and that only reinforced the representations of high school girls on television.
A lot of it is my fault. I too, am low maintenance friend. I can go days without seeing my friends and when we’re reunited it’s like we were never apart. I paired myself with friends who needed constant attention and reassurance of our bond. I had trust issues, so I could never bring myself to throw around the words ‘I love you’ like they could. I had dreams beyond my high school and hometown, and I resolved to move forward with or without the girls I knew. To this day I remain in contact with only one girl from middle school.
Still, I felt a missing space inside, eager to be filled when I got to university. I was optimistic and perhaps over-enthusiastic, so I latched on to the first girl friend I made. She introduced me to her new best friend she made three days before, and I thought that was even better. I gave my best shot at reenacting those television representations. We took our selfies, shared our clothes, declared our love on social media, and I thought maybe I was finally doing it right. Even if it didn’t feel that way. It took me months to realize I was kidding myself.
So I finally stopped looking, and thought I could handle everything on my own. I spent years of denial warring with hope. And then I was placed in the same suite as this girl through a mutual friend. I found a girl who broke the mold of the representations of girls that I had seen up to that point. She avoided drama, and didn't let fashion trends and popularity rule her life. She was nice to everyone, and optimistic. I started unloading the stresses of my life onto her before I even considered her a friend. Once I started confiding in her, I couldn’t stop. Sometimes I think it worked out because we did it backwards. Normally in college you become friends, and then you move in together. But we already knew we could co-exist before we knew we could be friends.
Despite the representations of girl friendships on television that generally suggest we are bitchy, backstabbing and fake, we all want that BFF. We want that person who is genuinely invested in us and our future, a friendship of mutual adoration. One in which we can spend the whole night studying, or dancing. Or one in which we can be a little shallow and talk about clothing and boys, or more intellectual and talk about social justice, media or politics. Some girls are lucky; they have their Kimmy Gibblers. The rest of us had to wait longer for someone to just walk into the room and change our lives. Just like we had to wait for more positive representations of female friendships on television. Like Leslie Knope and Ann Perkins. My Ann Perkins convinced me it’s okay to trust, and okay to feel. She saves me from myself. When I say I love her, it’s because she’s my sister.
She’s my “beautiful, talented, brilliant, powerful musk ox,” as Leslie Knope would say.
