I trust too easily.
That’s my cross to bear. I know there are people that think I trust anyone I talk to. That’s not necessarily true, per se, I don’t mind being honest, because I know people don’t always say enough and regret friendships later.
For me, I’ve come to the conclusion that everyone I let in has broken my trust, or just shown me that they don’t consider me the “thing” I saw them as: a best friend.
Dictionary.com describes a best friend as “someone’s closest friend.” I’m sure everyone has one as well, right? You’re probably sitting there thinking of your best friend right now, and not understanding my perspective, or thinking I’m invalid in my opinion. That’s all fine and good; I think many people do have true best friends in the world. My parents are best friends for sure. One of my oldest friends is engaged, and her fiancé has been her best friend since before they were a couple back in high school. But that doesn’t mean I’ve had those experiences that everyone else shares.
I’ve come into contact with individuals I have considered to be one of those people. I remember in elementary school, everyone was “my best friend!” But I can’t tell you a single person’s name on that list. As I got older and reached middle school, I did have a small group of friends I considered to be those best friends, until every single one of them (Minus my girl that stayed with me through the years) decided that being friends with someone who “curses, is annoying, loud, and weird” wasn’t worth it, and all kicked me out of the group and the lunch table I’d sat at for 3 years. Imagine losing all your so-called best friends at 14.
The one girl I mentioned is still a friend; she was my best friend through high school. She never used the term with anyone, just her younger sister, since they were so close, or people she’d known since she was still in diapers. But we spent high school being friends, and when we can spend time together on occasion, we will. Hell, we’ve been texting about how she’ll be coming here when our football teams play each other next week. But I know I wasn’t her best friend. I am her friend–we both realized we wanted to become writing majors together, would read and write together, help each other out, and did choir and musical together–but if you asked her who her best friend in high school was, I don’t think I’d even make her top 10 list. She was close with a lot of people and she never used the term.
College is what sealed the deal for me. Actually, this isn’t a new thing; I’ve been telling people I hate the term since freshman year ended. As a senior, I don’t have a group of friends I consider my closest ones. I don’t have someone I call or text and tell everything to. I’m close with my one roommate, but she’d pick her boyfriend over me as her best friend, and there’s nothing wrong with that. I even told my boyfriend I can’t call him my best friend, and he knows and gets that. There’s just no more positivity in that term for me.
I used to be close with these three guys, one of which is my boyfriend. I’ll call them A, B, and C, C being my significant other. We spent a lot of time hanging out and talking together, and they helped me get out of an emotionally abusive relationship freshman year, as well as would just help me with little things. We were all there for one another, no questions really asked. A was the kind of “leader” of the group and he knew it. B was the goofy, silly one, and C is the nerdy, funny and loving one. I loved spending time with them.
Things changed when my relationship with B started affecting the whole group. We took the summer away from each other, but ultimately, it was the core of why we all didn’t spend a lot of time together anymore. Soon, A also became frustrated with me and the things I was dealing with. Then, they started hanging out without me, leaving me out, and ultimately, I didn’t talk to A for around 7 months, and B and I had a huge falling out. The only people in my college life I was willing to call my best friends, the people that helped me through everything, we fell apart. I still talk to all of them, but I know A would never call me anything more than a friend (maybe even just someone he’d talk to), B and I are just acquaintances, and C is my boyfriend.
Clearly, it all worked out for the best, right?
The last person I was calling best friend kind of stopped talking to me, too, opting to spend time with new friends instead of me. There’s nothing wrong with it, we just seem to have grown apart. Maybe this explains some of it, but not everything.
I do everything for everyone in my life. If you asked any of my friends or people I post pictures with on social media, I guarantee they’ll tell you I’m loyal and always willing to help anyone. Hell, I picked up a roommate in the hospital at 7 a.m. after sleeping for two hours one year.
The issue I have with the term is I’ve never been called it. The people I was close to growing up, they’ve never seen me as anything more than the friend they didn’t need to spend all their time with. I’m just someone people talk to when they know I’ll get something done for them.
I can’t keep hurting myself with a stupid word. “Best.” I’m no one’s “best.” Saying it already sounds stupid. Social media is everyone’s world, and no one has ever called me as such. The people I valued as those “best friends” have never once featured me on any social media, and if they did, it was because there were other people in the photo as well, and they would just call us all “friends” or “pals.”
So, is it bad I don’t like this term? Am I a bad person? No. I’m a friend who trusts too much and wants to be liked by everyone else, I don’t give myself the chance. I want to be liked so much, and I want to be treated well the way I am, but it hasn’t happened yet. Maybe it never will. Who knows?
It’s not so hard to write the words “best friend.” But for me, the words have become toxic.