For as long as I can remember, I have played the role of the best friend of the girlfriend. Usually, this character gets a bad rap; I’d like to change that.
I am no stranger to this role and, if I do say so myself, I play it very well. I have watched over the years as my friends embark on romantic relationships: dropping them off on their dates, choosing their outfits with them and debriefing the morning after. It’s a cycle that seems to pass me by, causing me to wonder if I’ll ever have my chance at it. I’ve often spiraled, convincing myself that I’ll never have what they have; I’ve even whined the cliche, “I’m unlovable,” sobbing to my best friend in the middle of the street — I have what some might call a “dramatic flare.”
Throughout high school, my three closest friends were in relationships. It was not the nightmare you’re all imagining, but rather, an important lesson in managing expectations. These days, three of my closest friends at school are also in relationships. Fortunately, I learned from a young age what it means to support a friend in a relationship without feeling abandoned, lost or alone. I also happen to be great at third-wheeling and, as my best friend conveniently pointed out, I often find that my friends’ partners and I are very similar because we’re drawn to the same type of person.
After reading Dolly Alderton’s “Everything I Know About Love” this past summer, I find myself telling my friends in times of extreme hopelessness, “I’m feeling very Dolly Alderton right now.” Alderton’s book details her various relationships over the years, romantic and platonic, mostly focusing on how both she and her relationship with a close, childhood female friend has changed. The book is wonderful, and I sincerely suggest you all read it for its comedy, honesty and emotional charm.
I tell my friends this to relay just how single I feel because I find it remarkably easy to get caught up in the idea that each and every person around me is in a relationship, in love or has someone in their life, and I’m all alone, separate. What I’ve learned through the years is that jealousy can last for a fleeting moment before it turns into self-reflection and acknowledging the experiences I desire. I’ll admit it: I do want to love and to be loved. I want the intimacy and the excitement of a relationship, and simultaneously, I value my independence and reliance on my own person wholeheartedly. When I feel like this, it can be in a passing moment or last about one night in which I’ll become all nostalgic and a couple of tears will stream down my face.
Then I take a step back and remind myself that I am 20 years old. This only assures me for about a minute until I spiral into the following thought:
The idea I struggle with the most is that young people should be single because they need to focus on themselves in order to evolve into a real, adult, human being. This is the reason it’s okay for me to be single; “You’re so young, you’re still figuring out who you are,” my brother tells me when I update him that yet another one of my friends has met someone, and I want that too. At one point this summer, I even presented the thought, “Maybe there’s something wrong with us,” but he’s started seeing someone. So I’ve returned to my original thesis: you’re on your own.
What it seems the world fails to understand is that I have been working on myself since I was 16 years old. I’m actively doing the work to love myself and love alone time, and the people in my life know that I am wildly independent and prioritize caring for myself. I’ve been told countless times in my life how mature I am, and “wise beyond my years.” When I’ve spoken to my friend who has also been told the same phrase over and over, we ask ourselves, “When will it pay off? When will all my maturity and wise knowledge come to fruition and make my life all the better?”
I think what I’ve decided is that for now, in these 20 years I’ve had thus far, I get to have beautiful, beautiful friendships and all that romantic crap will just follow. I find myself, a score into life, surrounded by platonic love. I’m finally at peace with the friends I have; they grant me true bliss, and man, did I choose well. I’m not just being boastful, I’ve genuinely been told this before. How lucky am I, to have found these people that I will have for years to come in my life just 20 years in? And to think of all we’ve already been through though some friendships are longer than others, some more intense and some farther in distance. What monumental lessons I’ve learned from these people in my life — and I get to continue to enjoy them, to celebrate their successes as my own, to support them through whatever comes their way and have them do the same for me.
As much as I long for romantic love in my life, I know how fortunate I am to have found my people so young. People who will last beyond my first boyfriend and rather, friends who will remain throughout various apartments, jobs, cities and beyond. When I think about it this way, it’s not so bad to be the best friend of the girlfriend.