You’ve seen the articles, “To my Best Friend,” “Seven Ways My Best Friend as Changed My Life,” “Reasons Why You’re My Best Friend,” and so on. You’ve probably even read a couple (I know I have). You may even have the best friend charms to prove it--maybe even a best friend tattoo.
But what about the girls (and guys) without a best friend? Contrary to popular belief, not everyone has “a person”—thanks a lot, “Gey’s Anatomy.”
For all of my lone wolves, my brothers and sisters with friends of many, not friends with one—this goes out to you.
We’re not all cut out to be a best friend. And that’s perfectly okay.
From a young age, I can remember the pressure I felt to have a best friend. Who was I going to give the BFF charm that my mom finally let me buy from “Claire’s?!”
Sure, I had friends. I never ate alone at the lunch table, and I ran around with the same gaggle of toothless, giggling girls on the playground every day. I went to the standard birthday parties and play dates. But I never really had a best friend.
It’s funny, even in elementary school, kids can pick out who the “best friends” are. Everyone knew it was Bethany and Kendra, Chelsea and Vivian, Tiffany and Amber. But what about me and the other “single” kids? The rest of us “unmatched” kiddos were left bumbling around, searching for our perfect friend match.
The quest was even harder in middle school (dear lord, those years were ROUGH). Sure, I found “my girls.” But once again, I was one of many, not part of a sacred pair.
Highs school was pretty much the same, but my group got tighter and smaller as I became super close with a group of three other girls. I always knew I would have a movie invite, a sleepover to enjoy and a party to crash. But I still never found that all elusive BFF.
In college, I was randomly placed with a sweet and sassy girl from a nearby town. Ka-Ching! Built-in bestie, am I right?! Well, for a while I was. We got a long really well—joined the same organizations, ate lunch together, until she found a couple of homewreckers—i.e. other girls--she naturally got a long with better. And just like that—I was back to the BFF drawing board.
I continued making friends the rest of my years at college. Senior year, I was happily the third wheel of a pretty solid BFF pairing. I was invited to all the parties, but yet again—not a BFF’er. Then final semester of senior year, I became close friends with a girl who had transferred in a while back. We got along well and decided to move in together after graduation. We weren’t very close, but she had a sass that rivaled my own—plus, she was a good time. And I can always appreciate a good time!
And just like that—I had unexpectedly found my BFF (and all the angels sang). We were like a happy little married pair (besides the guys we chased, and the guys that chased us). We cooked dinner together, went on adventures, and even spent the holidays together. We loved each other’s families like our own. We supported each other’s passions. And most importantly, we picked each other up when we were down—man, the tears that house saw. We were happily BFF’s for almost three years.
It seemed like we were destined to be best friends forever. But it was too much. We were both dominant, too bossy—wanted too much attention. In the end, our friendship crashed in a fiery blaze. It’s been two years since our breakup/divorce, and we still don’t talk to this day.
I had the BFF I always wanted—but it wasn’t right for me. It felt like we owned each other. That I HAD to be there for her. I couldn’t hang out with my other friends—because she didn’t like them. I left everyone one else for her friendship. The pressure kept building all those years and finally erupted in an un-mendable chaos of screams and verbal attacks.
There’s this underlining sense of ownerships between BFF’s that I still don’t understand—much less like. You can’t own a person. You can’t make a person “be your person.”
And as we grow older, find boyfriends, girlfriends, wives, husbands, partners and have babies, career moves—our attention shifts, and we often feel bad about leaving our “persons” out of important aspects of our lives. But we shouldn’t feel bad about growing, succeeding—doing what’s best for us.
In the end, I think we should all be our own BFF’s. I think we should stop searching for one friend to end all other friends and be friends with everyone. Topple the friendship hierarchy. Overthrow the establishment of the BFF! Throw a friendship coup! (If you see someone protesting BFFs around town--99% chance it’s me).
I’ve been BFF free for going on two years now—and I’m way less stressed, way less obsessive. And I do more things, have more friends that I want to have. I’ve also repaired a lot of friendships that I let go for that one, golden friendship.
Sure, I still have friends, but there’s no hierarchy. There’s not a BFF and then the “other,” less desirable friends. I love all my friends the same. And that is the way I think it should be.
