On friendships

I watched two TV programmes in the past week, The Kominksy Method and the final season of Broad City, that were both such absolute love songs to friendship it made me look at my own.

In my mid thirties, I feel more than ever the sheer power of friendships, particularly women, and how different people bring different things to my life. Example: I have a best friend who knows my life in THE most ridiculous detail. Nothing is off limits; basically she receives my inner dialogue via WhatsApp, email and Instagram DMs and is somehow ok with it, which is lucky for me. We communicate so much that once, when I had a four hour meeting at work with no phone, she was genuinely worried about my wellbeing. An absolute true bestie, she will do anything for me, like driving me to the doctors when I threw my back out even though she was heavily pregnant. We can also go on holiday together and not fall out, possibly the ultimate test.

I have another friend who can text me a screenshot and a gif and we can absolutely let shade FLY in a completely safe space and it has me snorting with laughter at my phone in public places, on a regular basis. She is able to provide the perfect gif for any scenario, along with being a non judgemental ear at all times. I have an ex colleague turned good friend and sadly we don’t get to see each other that much — but when we do, we do a romcom style run up to hug (the hug lasts about five minutes) and it is so joyous and pure spending time with her, even if we are just talking about Kesha over sandwiches. She asked me to write a poem for her wedding ceremony and it was one of the greatest honours. I have work wives who have come with me to cry in the loos, who buy me treats, who also know an alarming level of detail about my life and me theirs. We have a chat around 3pm every day about what’s for dinner. Every single day. Special mention also to my male work bestie who texts me every week when I’m working from home to remind me to eat lunch, because I’m out of the office routine and he knows how busy I am.

Without meaning to get all vommy, my wife is also my best friend. No, really. We were best friends for years and then we fell in love with each other completely by accident (it happens) and made the very big and scary decision to go for it, and actually be together. I am my absolute true self with her: I can be at my dorkiest / make up free / overweight / sad but she always makes me feel great. So it’s like living with a best friend from school who makes you laugh like a drain and who stays up late watching stupid videos with you, but one who you also really fancy, and who fancies you back.

I also think about friendships as you age. They change. Some get better, some fade. People fall off the path they’re walking with you, they drift back, have different priorities. And that’s okay. Sometimes you meet people later on who are better friends than ones you have known for years (that’s been a nice surprise to me). As you get older, you figure out what matters. My parents have a great friend who knows he can always go to their house in a crisis; their door is always open for him. In return he is outrageously generous and brings them lavish gifts and takes them away on trips. I think about my Grandad, who is no longer with us but who had a friend and neighbour who lived opposite. As he was getting older she would call him every morning if his living room curtains weren’t open by a certain time to see if he was ok. And actually, when he had his fall, it was she who knew something was up and went in and found him. That is true friendship.

In The Kominksy Method, Sandy and Norman are the ultimate in best friends. They’re in their later years, and share their experiences of grief, ageing, love, sex and relationships, family, constant peeing… It is brilliant writing and feels very real. When Norman’s wife has died and Sandy goes to visit late at night, you feel the absolute thread tied between them when, upon Sandy’s move to leave the house, Norman says quietly “Oh you’re leaving?” Michael Douglas’s Sandy turns back because he knows Norman needs him (there were also subsequent jokes about Sandy “tucking him in”). It was a tiny moment that said a lot about them as friends. Then I ugly cried through the final season of Broad City where Abbi and Ilana, absolute best friends, are facing their futures apart when Abbi moves to Colorado. That show has been the ultimate platonic tale that isn’t a love story but is a love story (not just for these two friends but for New York and your twenties also). The final scene between them is with Abbi in Boulder and Ilana in Brooklyn, on the phone. “So how are you?” Ilana asks. “Welll, since we spoke last night, I went to sleep, woke up, and got coffee, you?” Abbi replies. It’s such a true depiction of friendship that is relatable for everyone: the Abbis and Ilanas, but also the Sandys and the Normans.

Friends are people who are there for you at your lowest and talk you up when you are slaying and make you feel at your highest. They can be in the same room as you and text you because they know exactly what you’re thinking when somebody else is talking shit. They aren’t afraid to ask the difficult questions or challenge you. Good friends reflect the best version of yourself back to you when you need it the most, and you will no question do the same for them. Sure, romance is the biggest seller of movies and TV shows, but give me a show that broadcasts the very best of what it is to have great friends and I am there.

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