Friendship Struggles

What makes one friend the best?

Last week, I participated in Katherout’s online book club. We read the book, “Big Friendship: How We Keep Each Other Close,” written by Ann Friedman and Aminatou Sow, the creators of the podcast, Call Your Girlfriend. I had never heard of the podcast, but I was intrigued by the topic. I find friendships fascinating (and mind-boggling) because there seem to be no “rules.” We have so many rules on dating and romantic relationships but we have no playbook for friendships. How do you know when a friendship is not healthy? When do you throw in the towel? How do you bounce back from a blowout fight? Is it normal to grieve friendship breakups?

I have wanted a best friend for as long as I can remember. More than wanting a boyfriend, I wanted a platonic partner in crime. Someone that I could count on for life. I have never succeeded in this arena and this makes me feel deeply flawed. Why was I unfit for a best friend? I have had lots of different friends that I have called my best friend at one point in time, but I have never had a lasting friendship of that magnitude.

I came close. I had a friend that I met in third grade that remained one of my closest friends until a few months before my wedding. Instead of “maid of honor,” I had dubbed her my “best woman” because I think calling your friends maids and maidens is inane and archaic. I didn’t have any other bridesmaids because I hate ranking my friends. Not having other bridesmaids ultimately made the best woman stakes way too high. I only chose her because I needed someone to plan my bachelorette party, otherwise, I would not have felt the pressure to label anyone as the “best.”

We had long been calling each other our best friends, but in title only, none of our actions supported this distinction. I think we agreed to be one another’s maid of honor sometime in college when neither of us even had significant others. This was a matter of security. We both felt safe knowing we could check the “best friend box” and that our weddings would be (marginally) less stressful now that we had agreed to hold this title for one another.

It turns out that your wedding will be exponentially more stressful when your “best friend” blows up your bachelorette party and decides not to attend your wedding at all. This isn’t about our blowup, it’s about how labeling someone “the best” can be a slippery slope.

I am no longer friends with 3/4 of my closest friends from elementary/middle school (my oldest friends). One friendship faded out after college, another was a casualty of the pandemic, and the third was the above wedding-related catastrophe. I worry this makes me a bad person. Of my one remaining childhood friend, who I cherish, I am not entirely sure we would be friends if we met for the first time today. Friendship breakups where you are the one who is dumped sting more, but I still very much mourn friendships where I was the one to instigate the termination.

“The Seven-Year Expiration Date on Friendships: Sociologist Gerald Mollenhorst investigated how the context in which we meet people influences our social network. One of his conclusions: you lose about half of your close network members every seven years.”

In “Big Friendship,” Ann and Aminatou decide to go to therapy to save their relationship. This is a radical move. A fair amount of the Goodreads reviews stated that they would NEVER go to therapy for a friendship. And why not? We encourage therapy for romantic relationships. But friendship is supposed to always feel easy and the minute it becomes work, it is no longer worth the effort.

“At a cultural level, there is a lot of lip service about friendship being wonderful and important, but not a lot of social support for protecting what’s precious about it. Even deep, lasting friendships like ours need protection—and, sometimes, repair.”

A large portion of “Big Friendship” is dedicated to “Shine Theory.”

“We came to define Shine Theory as an investment, over the long term, in helping a friend be their best—and relying on their help in return. It is a conscious decision to bring our full selves to our friendships and to not let insecurity or envy ravage them. It’s a practice of cultivating a spirit of genuine happiness and excitement when our friends are doing well, and being there for them when they aren’t.”

This is a concept I struggle with. I find that a lot of my female friends can't be happy for me and I can't be happy for them. I know for me it's because I struggle with a "scarcity mindset." I feel threatened by the success of others because it feels like an attack on me. I know that's a selfish way to view things. I also know that people who are truly happy with their lives do not feel threatened by the success of others.

I do think that the media and society take some of the blame for pitting women against one another. There is only so much room for women at the top. Every female boss that I've ever had has been super toxic to work with.

“Some people will have you believe that by sharing the knowledge you’ve gained, you are losing your advantage. It’s simply not true. Shine Theory has only moved us closer to our goals. We have gained so much by sharing information that helped our friends get new jobs, make more money, or navigate tricky work problems. The researcher Adam Grant has found that the people who are unafraid to share their knowledge and resources with others in their community are the most likely to succeed over the long term.”

Back in October, I was reflecting on my love of the show “Golden Girls.” I wanted to send a gif to a friend saying “Thank you for being a friend” and this resulted in the theme song being stuck in my head. When I first heard that song, it made me think of my ex “bff.” I still love that song but I feel a bit sad thinking about the fact that it used to remind me of her. I discovered Golden Girls around the time that I made my “Will you be my maid of honor best woman?” proposal box for her (another ridiculous thing I felt compelled to do because of the wedding industry).

I am sad that I am no longer friends with her, but I do genuinely feel thankful for her friendship during periods in my life when I needed a friend like her.

We texted each other nonstop but it was mostly about trivial, pessimistic topics: how fat we felt, how annoying our jobs were, gossip about people we both knew. It was not deep. It was not profound. I notice that I miss her most when I want to be petty. Now, whenever I come across a piece of snarky information about someone I went to high school with, I am at a loss for who to text. She is the only person who would indulge me in this form of gossip.

This has been illuminating for me. Although I have been inclined to scratch this itch and gossip, I really shouldn’t. It isn’t a positive thing to do. It’s probably for the best that we are no longer friends. Our relationship was a bit codependent and negative. While it was nice to have someone to vent to, we never talked about anything substantive (or productive for that matter).

“According to Aristotle, friends hold a mirror up to each other. This mirror allows them to see things they wouldn’t be able to observe if they were holding up the mirror to themselves. (We think of it as the difference between a shaky selfie and a really clear portrait taken by somebody else.) Observing ourselves in the mirror of others is how we improve as people. We can see our flaws illuminated in new ways”

I am not entirely sure we valued each other’s friendship. We liked the idea of having a best friend but we did not prioritize quality time with one another. When I lived in Portland and she lived in the Bay area, we used to always complain that it would be so much better if we lived closer. After I moved to San Francisco (one block away from where her boyfriend, now husband, lived), I still never saw her. She would only come over when she was killing time because he was unavailable. She would say to me “Can I come over? My boyfriend is at the gym.” She knew how to make me feel special!

Don’t get me wrong - she had good qualities. When I first moved to Portland, I was super depressed and she made me these adorable collages to motivate me. They had old pictures of us and quotes about weathering the storm and how you are right where you need to be. It was extremely thoughtful.

Now that time has passed, I can say, “Thank you for being a friend,” and genuinely mean it. She wasn’t the best friend. But she was a friend to me many times when I needed it.

I struggle with “what if’s.” What if I hadn’t chosen her as my best woman? Would we still be friends? Did our friendship buckle under the expectations that come with being labeled as someone’s bestie? Or would we have broken up anyway?

Apparently, I had tried to break up with her years prior. She reminded me of this once by saying, “Remember when you tried to break up with me?” No, I do not, which is frightening.

After a romantic breakup, a friend of mine always reads a book “It's Called a Breakup Because It's Broken.” Break-up implies it's broken. But how do you know when it is broken beyond repair? Is it better to preserve the length of the friendship at the expense of the quality of it? I think not.

I can be sad that we are no longer friends but I can also be happy because I have opened up space in my life for more true friends. More abundant friendships. Ones that make me grow and push me to be better. That’s a beautiful thing. I learned a lot from our friendship. I learned a lot about myself. With any challenge you can either wallow or you can ask yourself “What am I meant to learn from this experience?”

I want to let go of bitterness. Our friendship ran its course. For the most part, I can look back on it and smile instead of seethe. We helped each other, then we ultimately plateaued and started to descend. The end was messy and sad but that’s okay. I think we both are better off now as we move into this next phase of life.

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Tags - Friendship, Memories, Wedding