“Did you have broccoli for lunch? Here’s some floss.”
“Your necklace chain is twisted. Let me fix it.”
“Your breath smells like you had coffee for breakfast. Do you need gum?”
“Walk in front of me so I can check your pants.” IYKYK
These are the under-appreciated traits and tales of friendship. Of supreme comfortability and loyalty. Where embarrassment is a distant and fleeting thought in an attempt to love each other fully.
At 28, I never assumed some of the most important relationships I treasure would be with my friends. I assumed that marriage and children would be what my life would be wrapped around at this point. An assumption and expectation that often leaves me contemplating what I will be or how I will feel if it never happens. If my most meaningful, deep, and exciting relationships are with my friends, can I be content? Are my friendships just a consolation prize in the effort of what I think I want? At one point, I probably would have said yes, but now I don’t think so.
My friendships are what sustain me. Truly. I wouldn’t be who I am, where I am, or doing what I am without my friends. I’ve always believed that I see God’s goodness the clearest in the people I have around me. I’d be in rough shape without my friends. I shudder to think about what my eyebrows would look like without their honesty.
From playing dress up with my Kindergarten best friend —> awkward bra shopping with my middle school friends —> dying my hair and cutting unfortunate bangs with my high school friends —> sobbing about my purpose with my college roommates —> being encouraged to hold my boundaries by my adult friendships. Each and every person at every stage has taught me something different.
Like cheerleaders and guardrails. Chosen family. People who willingly put up with my nonsense when they have no real reason to stick around.
One of my favorite quotes on friendship is:
“Friendship is what will save us, so fall deeply in love with your friends. Date the, woo them, pursue them. Mark your anniversaries, celebrate their victories, take care of their names when they’re not in the room. Create a space for them where all truths are tender, for intimacy doesn’t have to be reserved for romance and crushes do not belong only to lovers. So don’t hide it when you find a bonafide ride-or-die.” - David Gate
Letting yourself be fully observed and commented on is actually terrifying. Inviting someone into your thoughts, feelings, and gross parts can often feel like a weird form of masochism. It takes a lot of work to go from strangers to soulmates. Because that’s what it feels like when a friendship just works, doesn’t it? Like some mystical, magical, beautiful space of existing together with someone who just gets you.
The thing I love most about friendships is that they are unending in their scope. Some friendships exist around shared interests or hobbies. Some around officing together and trying to stifle laughter during meetings. Some out of simple proximity. Some friends know your favorite color or your coffee order. And some friends know that in the second grade you pretended that your favorite color was blue because you felt judged and too stereotypical about it being pink. (A truly awful time of pretending for me that I only managed to keep up for one year.)
My best friend and I consistently use one specific phrase with each other - “you are worth the work.” All relationships are work. Not all relationships are worth it. And I never guessed that trying to create meaningful friendships as an adult would feel like a cruel way of finding out I didn’t outgrow all of my awkwardness.
When I first moved to Minnesota almost two years ago I didn’t know anyone. I was starting at ground zero in finding and creating friendships. It was A LOT of work. Work I normally don’t feel fatigued by, but for whatever reason, this felt like more work than I wanted to do. So I moved much slower than I normally do. I gave myself a full month of living here before I even tried to really get to know anyone.
I get easily fatigued by the learning phase. I like the knowing phase. And as a kid, the knowing happens so quickly that sometimes you (I) forget how important it is. That it’s continuous and shouldn’t be treated like a chore.
I know it’s because my favorite spot in any friendship is the honesty and weirdness stage. The “let’s put it all on the table and show how weird and silly the inner workings of our brains are” stage. The “I grabbed a tampon from your bag because I needed one” phase. But it takes the learning stage to get there.
I like to move fast through everything, so I’m working to find a happy middle. Probably waiting at least a few weeks before I look through someone else’s bag. Even though friendships in this phase of my life don’t come quite as easily as they did when all I needed was a willing participant, open space, and imagination - they are exponentially more worth the work.
Forging friendships as an adult is hard, and I think it could be a lot easier if we just started telling someone when they have something in their teeth.
What do you love about your best friends? How have your friendships help sustain you?