I cringe when women say, “My husband is my best friend.” Cringe. Sometimes I puke a little in my mouth.
I’m not debating it. Maybe he is your best friend.
I’m also not saying you’re stupid or wrong. It’s just one of those Cringe-Worthy statements. Like terms “Fur Babies” or “Cool Beans”. Or statements like, “I don’t care what we have. As long as the baby is healthy.”
Mark isn’t my best friend. He also isn’t just a friend. He’s my husband. I will tell him 99.9% of everything I’m feeling. I will forget to flush a shit. I will pee with the door open and carrying on a conversation with him. I will cry in his lap. I’m grateful he’s the father of my children. He knows me. But my best friend? Nope. I need a safe place. Not a place to bitch about him or someone to burden lies. Sometimes I need my best friends. They get a different part of me. And that’s ok. It’s normal. I need a best friend.
As a woman in her late thirties having a best friend sounds icky. Kinda cringy… But I guess you need to dig deep into my mental issues.
My mom raised us to not have best friends. Thought it was rude to the other kids in the class: someone would feel bad if they weren’t our best friend. We got scolded if we even said the phrase. So we stopped. We had good friends. And the phrase, “best friend” has always felt weird.
How am I not completely fucked up?
As I’ve gotten older, I realize that Best Friend isn’t someone to run from. It’s a role to be embraced. Because I need them. The term has grown and isn’t so childish. I don’t need one Best Friend. I can have a handful. And that’s important! It’s ok if your BFF has other BFFs. This isn’t grade school, Folks. It’s ok if you never meet the other BFFs. It’s ok if your BFF has had the same BFF since pre-school. Your friendship is still valuable. You don’t pick BFFs with a friendship bracelet. You grow into the BFF because you need them in.
Here’s what makes Best Friend (not Good Friend, sorry Ma):
- When you have an issue that’s making you question your sanity and afraid you’re abnormal, you finally open up… Your BFF makes you feel completely human.
- When you have a problem and you don’t ask for help. Your BFF just shows up to fix or help ease the problem.
- You know exactly who you’d call if you need bailed out of jail, picked up at an abortion clinic, or picked up off the floor. You BFF will agree with you that it’s ok to run away from your home. And when you decide to hop in the car for California, she takes shotgun. And then when you’re 45 minutes outside the city and you feel guilty she finds a way to get you home without calling your bluff or judging the decision to run/return.
- You have someone who will shut you up when you’re wrong and it’s ok. You’ll keep calling. Because deep down, she was right.
- You can be snarky and not apologize.
- You get deep and never have to pull out info. Go beyond the surface. Dig into crazy and not worry about how I’ll react. Have an opinion. Don’t play it safe just to be nice. Surface doesn’t work for the deepness a BFF brings.
- Someone who supports every perfect/insane/stupid/fantastic idea that spews out of your head.
I don’t have one best friend. I have plenty. I have some that I see a lot. I have a few that I won’t see for years. I have some who are family members. I share these BFF’s with their other BFF’s. I have BFF’s that I won’t talk to for months and I don’t worry about it (maybe that’s bad…), but I will cut a bitch who fucks with them. I have best friends I’ve known for 36 years. And I have BFF that I’ve known for only a couple years. I have best friends who make me feel normal and remind me that things pass. To all my BFF’s, I will probably never out loud say, “You are my best friend.” And my BFF isn’t my husband.
Most important, I hope that I repay the BFF favor.
In the fourth grade, my Mom was right. You shouldn’t have a best friend. But guess what? She was also wrong…
You should have a handful of best friends.