As I round out the final weeks of my college career — skidding into adulthood at full speed with broken breaks but a heart full of determination — one of the lingering thoughts in the deepest depths of my mind is “how do I even do life without my best friend?” Simply typing this confession on the untitled google doc I am using as the draft for this article triggers a wave of distraught tears. Who would I be without my best friend?
My best friend and I are quite literally the same person in different fonts. We have the same pair of sandals — hers black, mine white — which we spontaneously purchased after going on a mission to buy heels for our upcoming graduation ceremonies. As I reflect on how we so carelessly speed tested our sandals in the middle of a warehouse shoe store, where all other shoppers could observe our shenanigans over the waist high shelves, I can’t help but burst into joyous sobs. Snot dripping on my t-shirt, I painfully smile and keep typing.
My best friend just gets me. She uplifts me to the confident, silly, sassy, intelligent woman I so pridefully label myself as and I hope I do the same for her. How do I approach the scary world waiting for me without my soul sister by my side to help make the journey funny and less intimidating?
My best friend and I have been incredibly lucky to live together for three years; because we were both too awkward and nonchalant to find new housemates, we’ve stuck together since the day we were assigned as random roommates. We bonded over the absurdities of our other roommates but in the midst of finding ourselves, accidentally grew up together. Now I don’t even know who I am without her.
This girl understands me like no one else; sometimes I panic because I think I know her better than I know myself and vice versa. I genuinely believe women spend lifetimes searching for a platonic connection like I have with my best friend.
I am well aware of my privilege: female friendship is one of the most difficult things in the world. In high school I was catastrophically isolated from my peers after being the victim of a bullying incident which left me too scared to even connect with another woman. With many female friendships comes the burdens of competition, passive aggressiveness, and the fear they will drop you when another “cooler” friend comes along. Nevermind the tragedy of friends who will sacrifice a platonic relationship for the attention from a male. Girls can be catty, self-serving, and straight up horrible to each other. How I discovered a friend who genuinely respects me like I respect her has been a gift I don’t brag about enough.
Through my best friend, I have learned the necessity of uplifting other women. I have discovered myself — and my life’s passions — over hysterical conversations in our pajamas while grasping mismatched glasses of wine. My best friend has witnessed me pee my pants from laughter, heard me throw up after too much spiked punch (which I believed to be Kool Aid), and brought me medicine when I have been deathly ill from the well-known semesterly “frat-flu”. My best friend and I joke about our reinforcing cycle of hyperfixations and spontaneity: who knows if watching three seasons of ANTM in two weeks was a mental health crisis or just us being two women with a fascination for reality television and pretty clothes? My best friend makes me laugh harder than I knew was possible, triggers a frustration in me I thought only a sibling could, and is my biggest role model. I have had the privilege to watch my best friend get to know my brother and grin with secret adoration when they tease each other like they too are siblings. I have seen my best friend flourish after escaping a toxic relationship, hyped her up while she studied for the LSAT, and forced her to go to a football game with me even when she had a concussion. We led our Her Campus chapter as partners in crime, enrolled in a ceramics class during our final semester of school together, and plunged into our individual therapy adventures side-by-side. My best friend and I are never too far apart and yet in two months we won’t be living together for the first time since we met.
I am not scared of what my future holds because I know no matter what happens I will have someone to comfort me as I cry, come shopping with me when I need an escape, and rot in a living room in stained pajamas with me. I feel no shame, competition, or self-doubt when I have my closest amigo sleeping in the room next to me, across the room at a Her Campus meeting, or when presenting our thrift-hauls to her private story in her car.
Thank you for being my go-to person; meeting you has been the highlight of my college career. I can’t verbally express how heart-broken I will be come move-out day, but know you will not be getting rid of me anytime soon. You’re the best person I know and have taught me countless lessons about female friendship, confidence, and self-love. And for that, I’ve got your back no matter who or what comes our way. Being your friend has helped me be me. Thank you.