Timely, as I am vacationing this week and last night one of the friends I am visiting and I calculated that this is our eighteenth anniversary (ish) since it was Fat Tuesday and we met at Mardi Gras.
But generally, the thing that keeps me from feeling like friendship can be at the center of my life is reciprocity. As a long term single person with no children, I get that it is comparatively easy for me to center friendship, but at times it feels like people are happy to have me around when they need something but then retreat to their nuclear family or partner-centered walled-gardens. I have friends I hear from when tragedy strikes, or when their husbands are out of town, or when they’re feeling pent up in their day to day life and need some sort of “girls night” but who can’t or won’t make time otherwise. It all feels very transactional, and leaves me feeling like I need to make finding a partner a priority, even if it’s not my natural inclination.
That's how I feel. My romantic relationships have become the closest relationships in my life but not for lack of effort in prioritizing friendships.
It's always bothered me how common it is for people to drop their friends once they get in a relationship. Multiple people have told me that it's "immature" to expect otherwise.
So true! I resent the "romantic and\or sexual relationship = maturity" equation. Among other problematic things, it's extremely asexual-aromantic-phobic.
I’ve written precisely this thought elsewhere in this community several months ago. It’s been one of the most challenging realities of my life to grapple with. Thank goodness for my dog.
I feel this. I recently went out of my way to celebrate my friend's kids birthdays. Only to have her get into a relationship and not reach out to me for two months straight. I have been somewhat ambivalent about a long term romantic relationship, but have been feeling like maybe I should focus on this because I'm sick of feeling longely.
I also really struggle with reciprocity and knowing that while my friends prioritize me in the way they can it’s still not at the same level I prioritize them since they have partners and I don’t.
I think it’s easier to prioritize romantic relationships because it’s considered “normal” to do so. We are encouraged to talk about our romantic relationships and the emotions surrounding them, and discuss what our commitment is (moving in together, marriage). Not so in friendships. I can’t imagine having a “status of the relationship” discussion with my friends or trying to cultivate a primary relationship without feeling like a crazy stalker. Plus, so many friendships are in groups and getting people on the same wavelengths is tough. That’s not to say I don’t have some treasured friendships, and I do plenty of things independently of my husband (I’ve actually been in New Orleans for a month, with my husband only joining me a couple weeks into the trip and a couple of close friends joining us this weekend! Edit: love the Mardi Gras friendship experiences!).
But it takes effort and, yes, easier to default to the person you have more emotional intimacy with.
I can't wait to read this book! In a total coincidence, I'm also teaching today about late nineteenth-century relationships between women, walking that tightrope of "what did they mean?" What a joy to see this today of all days.
I emigrated to the United States when I was 22 years old. I knew absolutely no one in this country. New friendships were vital to me; without them I had no one to talk to, no one to debrief my new experiences with, and no one to help me navigate the perplexing culture shift in my life (which was all the more perplexing because I emigrated from England, and so didn't anticipate any culture shock at all. Um, duh.) Friendships were everything; they were my support, my sustenance, and opened up new possibilities for me.
I love my friends deeply. Last year my friend Megan and I went on a trip together to celebrate our twentieth friend-versary, because why wouldn't you celebrate this as anniversary as much as any other? (Shout out to Whidbey Island!) This year I'll celebrate thirty years of being friends with my friend Laura, whom I met a week after getting off the plane in the US. Next year it'll be thirty years since I met my friend Ann Marie, whom I literally found through a mailing list about the TV show Friends in 1995. None of us live in the same town, but we make a point of having time together, online and off. And my friends and I absolutely plan to retire together in community.
I don't have family in this country to fall back on . . . except I do. I have a network of friends all over the place, and they have supported me through grad school, moves between cities, in my career, in my heartbreak, in some unspeakably tough times. They truly are the light of my life.
We want to be in the Midwest (where most - but not all - of us are rooted), and we'd like to live out in the country but be close enough to a major city for healthcare. We have a general area picked out. Our housing needs differ - I'd want a small place, for example, on one floor (no kids; no partner) - whereas I have friends who have large families they'd want to have room for. We're a mix of single and partnered folks, queer and not, all within about five years of each other in age. Our ideal is to have land around a central living space - say, a big ole farmhouse in which some folks would live, and around that build smaller units for the introverts and guests. We've talked about housekeeping needs, and care needs, and we all have various family health histories that we're thinking through to anticipate where we might need specialized care or space. We're a good fifteen-twenty years away from this, but it feels so good to gradually map out!
I remember the profound culture shock when we moved from southern California to Edinburgh Scotland when I was ten. So often I got in trouble simply because I didn't understand what I was told, even though we all, in theory, were speaking the same language.
I also celebrate a couple friend-aversaries. It's a wonderful acknowledgment of all that we mean to one another, even as our relationships change over the years.
I had a best friend in college who was probably my first real love. She was a writer, I was a writer. College was a really hard time for me and her friendship and steadiness was a first in my life. She taught me about feminist frameworks and how to recognize power struggles between men and women and people, in general, if they have a different skin color. This was all radically transformative for me. I was raised highly isolated (emotionally, mentally, physically) from the world (we never took vacations and could barely eek away for a weekend to see my grandparents without racing back for Sunday morning service).
And I’ve never known why I proposed to her (now almost 20 years ago) that after college we live together, move to New York to be writers and if we really wanted a man, we could have him outside the house… kind of like a dog on a leash. 😂 I’m still shocked when I think about my idea because I was exposed to NOTHING like this growing up. Hell, I was still a virgin when I was proposing this and I didn’t even have in my mind the idea that we’d be lesbian partners. I didn’t feel for her that way. But I did long to be close to her. It was her company and friendship I enjoyed and I wanted to keep staying with her wherever I went in life. She was still pretty set on christianity and her response to my idea was “WHAT THAT’S CRAZY WE CANT DO THAT.”
A year or two later before she got married, she called me sobbing from a bathroom stall at work, asking “What am I doing with my life?!” She went on to get married anyways and as the old tune goes, we drifted apart but I’ve never forgotten that impulse to just live with my best friend forever, being happy, writing, reading and exploring the world without all the trappings that come with traditional relationships. I wish everyone could live with their first best friend love forever. 🧡
My first best friend is married, but she's still absolutely my person. We don't see each other face-to-face anywhere near as much as I like, but we text and FB msg and Zoom. She is one of three Fairy Godmothers for both my kids. When we get a chance to talk via phone, Zoom, or in person we just drop right in. Her husband, as much as she adores him (and I like him, too), just doesn't have the same level of history with her. He never met her mom (who committed suicide before they met). He wasn't around when she got raped right after we got out of college. The converse is true for any partner I have, especially now. They never met my dad, or went to my parent's house, or knew my brother who died. They weren't with me through my divorce, my cross-country moves, or my post-partum depression. He, obviously, has a depth of daily intimacy with her that I don't, as would any romantic partnership I have, but our relationship has a weight and history that matters.
Weirdly, we haven't lived in the same place or seen each other daily since 8th grade. Or 38 years ago. But here we are. I also wish we could all live with our best friends, but even if we don't we can absolutely center our lives around them. We just have to want to.
I had a friend like that too... Soul sisters, we used to say. We lived together, traveled together, and experienced life together. When she met her partner and got serious, things got more complicated. I'm not sure if I was jealous, but I think I certainly had difficulty sharing her. Also, I really did not like her partner. The last time I saw her was at their wedding. We had a pretty rough falling out. But I'm still grateful for the time we had together...
For the last year and a half I've been living with one of my best friends, and honestly, if it were entirely up to me I would live with her for the rest of my life. We effortlessly back each other up emotionally and practically. There's never any sense of tit-for-tat; it's just, "I love you so why wouldn't I do this thing for you that you clearly need?" She adores my kids (who live with us) and I love hers (though they're both grown and out in the world). Recently she started a new romantic relationship and we had to talk about it. Specifically about my fear that I would lose her to it, which prompted both of us to talk explicitly about what we mean to each other and how we want to prioritize our relationship. This is also timely because she's never actually had a chance to live alone as an adult, so she's moving out this summer. I am SAD, but also understand her drive towards that experience. And I trust we'll live together again in the future if we can.
Optimally, I would prefer to live with a dear friend and then have a romantic partner that lives next door. I don't lose myself in friendship the way I do in romantic partnership historically, so I don't feel like my closest friendships require that bit of physical remove to remind me to be mindful of my autonomy. But my romantic partnerships definitely do, perhaps because we've constructed heterosexual romantic partnerships particularly as this all-consuming thing. I find them weirdly vortex-like, personally. They suck me in in a way I find doesn't benefit me or suit me temperamentally. But my great friendships never feel like that for me. I feel like they help me be more myself, not less.
I loved this interview and all of Rhaina's thinking. I'm also disappointed not to see any reference or homage to the fact that queer communities -- defined broadly throughout history -- have always been at the forefront of centering friendship and creating "chosen family". I've been in queer communities in different places for twenty years now and have seen these practices everywhere. I would guess they are only so novel and new to hetero folks. I hope this is in the book.
I'm pretty sure it appears in her book! I just read an article adapted from a chapter of her upcoming book in the Atlantic, in which she speaks about friends who chose to be each other's caregivers. She gives data about LGBTQ+ people and the rates of "inter-dependency" in that community are higher than among straight people. It's just that the interview can't cover everything
I think those of us who are widowed eventually learn to reshape our lives around friendship. A bit surprisingly to me, several of those “new“ friendships are actually revivals of young adult friendships. They include a godmother from my adult baptism, the maid of honor from my wedding, a post-college roommate who sang in my wedding, and for whose wedding I baked the cake. Also someone from middle school whose art I collect. Another set are intentionally cultivated neighborhood relationships. I have a potluck with several other unmarried women monthly. I do a lot of work on the neighborhood landscaping, so my face is familiar to almost everyone here. Church is also an important set of connections for me, some of which are growing into friendships.
I would love to understand how you found the ability to organize yourself this way. We lost my dad 2.5 years ago. My mom is devastated. I relish my female friendships and am lucky to have several places in my life where a good group of women exist. But, I don't see that for my mom, who spent her life organizing it around my dad. I want this for her both selfishly (I am her network now) and unselfishly (I feel like female friendships truly keep me sane).
Brittany, I'm so sorry for your loss. One thing that is probably different between my circumstance and your mom's is that I lost my husband while my father was failing. So I was able to leave the home where we'd lived together and return to my childhood home/hometown to care for Dad in his last weeks. It was a different kind of difficult to move at that time and live in a home I'd left almost 40 years before. But I think it would have been harder to remain in what had been our house. I was grateful that my sibs let me stay in our childhood home for a couple years while I got my feet under me and while they did the grieving necessary before emptying and selling the house. It will be important for you to know that it takes a couple years to establish any solid friendship, so your mom is likely to be relying on you for a while. If you can identify any of her friends from earlier years who are still living, those will be the easiest connections because they have shared history.
I should add: If your mother is a church goer, there may be other widows there to connect with. Friendship with couples tends to be hard because the idea that couples only hang with couples still endures.
Six years ago I moved back to the town I grew up in and I’m finding some of the same things. Resurrecting some of these long dormant connections has been one of the nicest things about this change for me.
My partner has two best friends from childhood he talks to on the phone every day. As I hear their conversations it ranges from serious talking about relationships and health and jobs but it's mostly shared interests, the football game that was on last night or music or comedy they love. It's one of my favorite parts about him. I have always prioritized friendships and sometimes feel guilty that my imagined end game is to live near my best friend and don't always imagine my partner who I love very much as part of the
picture. But my partner is so encouraging about my maintaining friendships that he has grown to live these people as well. I also live in close proximity to my closest in town friends and while I dream of selling my run down money pit house I also factor in the coast of moving somewhere else where we would have to drive to see one another. I also serve on my city's zoning board and see first hand how vilified multi family housing is. Meanwhile living in a building full of neighbors to call on in times of need sounds like a dream.
proximity is key! even in my suburban neighborhood that is brimming with fellow mom friends, its difficult for us to actually see each other regularly. one or 2 blocks is a lot when you have little kids. there is something to be said about being able to run into people instead of having to make plans all the time...
my fiancé is like this and I'm SO RELIEVED. He has male and female friends he loves so much and talks to frequently on the phone or over discord. I've been in a relationship with someone more like me before (introvert ND with social anxiety) and carrying the weight of all of his social needs was just too much. So glad to have found a man who likes me a whole lot, but doesn't need me to be his entire support network.
My husband also has a lot of strong female and male friendships. They don't talk on the phone a lot, but basically text back and forth in a series of Signal groups. They are super candid about almost everything, money, relationships, kids. It's great to see, but would be nice if any of them were local.
My mother’s closest friend was our godmother Maxine (I’ve written about her on CulinaryWoman). They met in 1947 when Maxine was a lab technician under my mother’s supervision. Maxine was my mother’s maid of honor. She was there when both my brother and I were born. She and my mum took us on outings so my papa could rest on Sundays. When he died young, my mother invited her to move in. They were a perfect combination: Maxine did things like mow the lawn, grocery shop, and drive (my mother did not drive regularly until after my papa died). My mother was much more social and could get Maxine to dress up and go places. When my mum was in hospice, Maxine slept in her suite every night - I offered to do it, but Maxine wanted to. After my mother died, I told Maxine she could stay in my mum’s house as long as she was able. I eventually became her caregiver, and was there when she died two years ago. Several people asked me if they were an LGBT couple. No, the closest of friends. I’m so glad she was in our lives.
These type of conversations are always so interesting to me as someone who has never been a friend person. It sounds kind of nice but I'm just not built to be a good friend. Even as a kid the pleasure I got from friendship was always overmatched by overwhelming pressure to act like the kind of person who deserved friends and the guilt of knowing I was just faking it and if they knew who I really was they'd run and the knowledge that people most likely saw through me anyway and were being nice to me out of pity or duty. I could maintain friendships for a couple of years but then felt obligated to fade out of them so my friends could move on. In fact, one of the nice things about adulthood is that there is less pressure to have friends. I have a spouse that is the closest thing to a friend and siblings who I truly adore and who include me in their relationship even though I'm sure they would rather not and everyone else is an arms-length acquaintance - -most of them friendly acquaintances which is preferable to the alternative but not friends. Actually I know one person who keeps acting like she's trying to be my friend - we're going to coffee together today - and I'm so nervous, I just hope I can be who she needs me to be until she can make actual friends. She's new to town and is so nice and I know she'll end up finding her people, but this is a hard place to be a newcomer in and I think she's really lonely.
Just want to say I really appreciate your willingness to approach something that doesn't mirror your own experience as an object of curiosity, not something that's weird or offensive — comments like yours help make these comments' sections really, well, *interesting*
This really resonates with me. I spent a lot of my life both fearing friend rejection way more than romantic rejection and keeping folks at a distance as a subconscious mode of protection. I was extremely self-conscious that I didn't know how to be a good friend and that kept me from reaching out to people. Two things changed that. The first is that I started hanging out with people that I didn't think I had anything in common with. My expectations for friendship were lower, reducing the stakes. That made it easier for me to open up and surprised me when I made legitimate friends. The second is that when it was clear when someone was actively trying to be my friend, I BELIEVED THEM. Most people don't make that kind of effort for nefarious reasons. I am still working hard on being the initiator of new friendship. Letting myself be open to be friend-pursued has made a big difference.
Such an honest and important comment. It reminded me of Christie Tate's memoir, BFF, in which she explores the close friendships she's let go and the patterns she's noticed in why she couldn't maintain close friendships.
I've deleted and re-written a comment about 6 times because it keeps coming out so mopey, but here goes:
Articles like this about the power of female friendships or the strength in sisterhood (acknowledging that most of the above is not gender specific) always make me a little sad. My brain just doesn't do social relationships this way -- they're not easy, they're not relaxing or recharging, and often the enjoyment I get out of spending time with friends is less than or mental and emotional cost. But I need friendships and social interaction, so I do it anyway -- it's good for me in the long term, even if the short term is difficult.
I've made my peace with this (mostly), and given myself permission to stop aiming for this kind of friendship as a goal, because doing that always made me feel worse ("what the fuck is wrong with you? why aren't you relaxing in the cozy glow of your friend group right now? why is this so HARD?"). My friendships don't look like that, and that's ok! But every now and then I get bummed out about it because having a network of friends you love & can rely on just sounds really nice.
Me too. At 47 I have more or less resigned myself to not ever having a friend that actually wants to be my friend. I had a distant friend tell me once that I “have a bad friend picker”. I somehow manage to think I am friends with people who inevitably strap me with expectations of who they want me to be and I used to blame myself for not managing to live up to those expectations and falling short. But now I realize that they haven’t lived up to my expectations either.
I have been called difficult and been insulted repeatedly after trying to be there for people. I have gone over this with my therapist who repeatedly tells me that she thinks I am kind and interesting and engaging. I just wonder if I’ll ever find any friends who actually like me for me someday, whoever I am.
I have been sharing and listening and reading all the Other Significant Other content I can find. I have always valued or at least known I needed friendship in my life but it has taken time to really understand how to "operationalize" to use corpspeak, that in my life. I have an open marriage which is definitely something that gets the eye roll of "I mean, sounds fun, but i can't because of x, y,z". With an open relationship, I realized I needed to put the exact same energy I was putting into dating into dating my existing friends. Dinner dates, concerts we are excited to see, breakfast plans, walks, bike rides, all scheduled and planned and made with a specific person because of our shared interest or thing we wanted to do. All the pre-date stuff too, texting to say you are excited to see them, making reservations, texting about the day and what we both want and how much time we have, and then post-date follow up to say (sincerely) how much fun it was and how I can't wait to do it again.
For a lot of years, I have thought my marriage was less than others because I am married to someone who values independence and time and space. I didn't have the "best friends"/only want each other/do everything together thing. We love specific activities, live really well together, really raise kids well together and are affectionate and loving, love traveling together and as a family and ALSO vacation with friends without each other, take trips with our kids without the other, and go on dates with friends and lovers. I took a lot of time to get over not feeling "chosen" enough or valued because there wasn't what I was seeing out in culture in my life. But I also realized how suffocated I would feel if I felt like I couldn't make independent friends and had some sort of "spouse first" mentality.
I really really love my friends, I feel so much more comfortable talking about being in love with them and for understanding that the mix of romantic, sexual, and friendship love in one relationship is cool if you want it but is also deep, fulfilling and incredible from a number of different people. You just have to spend some time blocking out some of the dominant voices telling you, you are doing it wrong.
I also loved your point about all the pre-date and post-date energy and putting that into friendships. I often say that traveling with friends, for example, is more about the planning than the actual trip. All that discussion, texting, etc. beforehand is so exciting--so much anticipation. And it's bonding to anticipate like that, together.
I too am learning how to "operationalize" friendships that I value in my current town, where I have only been living a short time. Thanks for spelling out for me what's been working for you.
Very thought provoking. Having been in a long term relationship with a man that does not value friendships, can be if you let it, become stifling. I have a visceral need to see my friends and extended family regularly whereas my husband could go months without seeing a soul. To be honest we already live seperate social lives because of this disparity. However, I envisage a time where we live somewhat seperate lives, with my husband living mostly at our holiday home (100s of miles from friends or family, where he is happiest) whilst I stay at home in the city enjoying life with my friends and adult kids. Strangely that thought does not bother me too much at all.
I love this reimagining of what a marriage can be. My husband and I have been married for 25 years (we’re both in our late 40s) but he travels every other week for work. He also used to be in the reserves and was deployed for several months at a time multiple times and we lived across the country from each other for a year early in our marriage. We’ve spent more time apart than together. And we’ve had a really easy marriage. I’m neurodivergent and love having space and time alone. He is extroverted and enjoys being on the go. We both get our needs met and really enjoy the time we have together. In another example of an untraditional marriage, I have a friend who lives separately from her husband and always has. They’ve been married for more than a decade. We can make marriage whatever we want it to be, as long as everyone has input and is on board. I think more creative living arrangements is a great place to start.
Excited to read this book!! I really enjoyed the article & it clarified a lot of feelings I have. In my late 30s and single, and overall feel pretty ambivalent about marriage and the state of modern romance. Maybe it will happen, maybe it won't, but I feel pretty committed to building a community in my life regardless. I am extremely lucky to have a life long best friend, but she sadly lives across the country.
My friends are very important to me, but the last few years have been kind of hard friendship wise. In 2022 all of my closest friends moved away within a matter of a few months. I have definitely found some new friendships, but these things take time. My biggest complaint for the last few years is that I'm continually ditched by friends when they get into a romantic relationship. My friend that I used to ski and hike with during the week? Started only doing those things with her boyfriend. This winter multiple friends cancelled plans with me, only for me to later find out they did things with their significant other instead. I understand that we all want different things, but it's starting to feel lonely to deprioritize romance for friendship, and then have people not show up.
I'm sorry, that's so tough. I am also pretty ambivalent about being in a partnership, but I don't think I'd feel as chill about that if I didn't have a solid friend community (nearby) that is primarily made up of single women and childless couples. Sometimes I do spiral a bit wondering about, "well what if those childless-by-choice couples decide they DO want kids?"
THANK YOU for addressing the Boston Marriages question! This is the third interview with Rhaina Cohen I've seen this week (congrats Rhaina! you're everywhere and your book sounds amazing!), and I had been wondering where this question was.
I'm also queer, and many queer people I know take great joy in claiming famous people from history for our team based on their romantic/extremely close friendships -- Alexander Hamilton and John Laurens, Rachel Carson and Dorothy Freeman, etc. There's a large part of me that really wants to look at these people and see people like me existing across time. But another part of me knows the evidence is ambiguous at best, and sees the danger of imposing modern identity categories on people from the past. (Although Rachel Carson wasn't that long ago; maybe I'll hold on to her.) Thank you so much for addressing that tension.
I love this. My best friend and her family are coming this weekend and I am so excited to see them. We have always been close but when we each got married and again when we started having children we talked about how important our friendship is and how that can extend to our families. I love being an aunt to her two girls and I love that she and her husband are aunt and uncle to my son.
Once, a couple of years ago, I mentioned to a co-worker that my friend and her family were coming up for the weekend (from two states away) and the co-worker, said, "how nice, does she have family in this area?" (she does not). My friend and I laughed afterwards, saying I should have responded, "Yes, she has family here, ME!"
As an aside - I found "We All Want Impossible Things" incredibly moving.
“These conditions, or three “magic ingredients,” as Lisa Diamond, who’s a psychology professor at the University of Utah, calls it, are: time, togetherness, and touch.”
I have been thinking about this a lot lately in the context of platonic coworker friends. As an adult, the easiest way to get time and togetherness checked off is in the workplace. Yet those are the relationships where touch is the most fraught. When I think of my cis straight male friends, almost all of them are the spouses of my female friends. I have no problem or hesitation in greeting any of them with a hug and a kiss. My friends at work, to whom I am arguably closer, only get a fist bump. That lack of touch leaves me a bit unsettled because it feels like there is no good solution.
I worked in critical care, and that would be a weird one re touch, because we would be in deeply physical scenarios with each other, and sometimes bad things would happen, and some people would be huggers and others..... not and there was no balance, you wouldn't be guaranteed to have a match when a big trauma came in or you had to all say goodbye to a long term patient. But the corporate approach to touch was not employed in that environment. as a hugger, I am a bit lost in the corporate space sometimes!
I was just thinking about this too! I’ve spent more time and togetherness with a number of my coworkers as opposed to my non-work friends recently, but even the idea of giving a colleague more than a handshake feels very fraught. And I don’t think there is a solution. Unless/until you don’t work together anymore.
Timely, as I am vacationing this week and last night one of the friends I am visiting and I calculated that this is our eighteenth anniversary (ish) since it was Fat Tuesday and we met at Mardi Gras.
But generally, the thing that keeps me from feeling like friendship can be at the center of my life is reciprocity. As a long term single person with no children, I get that it is comparatively easy for me to center friendship, but at times it feels like people are happy to have me around when they need something but then retreat to their nuclear family or partner-centered walled-gardens. I have friends I hear from when tragedy strikes, or when their husbands are out of town, or when they’re feeling pent up in their day to day life and need some sort of “girls night” but who can’t or won’t make time otherwise. It all feels very transactional, and leaves me feeling like I need to make finding a partner a priority, even if it’s not my natural inclination.
That's how I feel. My romantic relationships have become the closest relationships in my life but not for lack of effort in prioritizing friendships.
It's always bothered me how common it is for people to drop their friends once they get in a relationship. Multiple people have told me that it's "immature" to expect otherwise.
So true! I resent the "romantic and\or sexual relationship = maturity" equation. Among other problematic things, it's extremely asexual-aromantic-phobic.
I totally get that. And while I don't feel that they're not reciprocating, it's more just that I'm no one's priority and it'd be nice to be.
I’ve written precisely this thought elsewhere in this community several months ago. It’s been one of the most challenging realities of my life to grapple with. Thank goodness for my dog.
100%!!!!
I feel this. I recently went out of my way to celebrate my friend's kids birthdays. Only to have her get into a relationship and not reach out to me for two months straight. I have been somewhat ambivalent about a long term romantic relationship, but have been feeling like maybe I should focus on this because I'm sick of feeling longely.
my best friend and i just went to mardi gras together. we didn’t meet in mardi gras but found this cute ♥️
I also really struggle with reciprocity and knowing that while my friends prioritize me in the way they can it’s still not at the same level I prioritize them since they have partners and I don’t.
I think it’s easier to prioritize romantic relationships because it’s considered “normal” to do so. We are encouraged to talk about our romantic relationships and the emotions surrounding them, and discuss what our commitment is (moving in together, marriage). Not so in friendships. I can’t imagine having a “status of the relationship” discussion with my friends or trying to cultivate a primary relationship without feeling like a crazy stalker. Plus, so many friendships are in groups and getting people on the same wavelengths is tough. That’s not to say I don’t have some treasured friendships, and I do plenty of things independently of my husband (I’ve actually been in New Orleans for a month, with my husband only joining me a couple weeks into the trip and a couple of close friends joining us this weekend! Edit: love the Mardi Gras friendship experiences!).
But it takes effort and, yes, easier to default to the person you have more emotional intimacy with.
Or you need to find more unpartnered friends? Don't give up yet!
This is so relatable.
Oh how I relate to this post!
I can't wait to read this book! In a total coincidence, I'm also teaching today about late nineteenth-century relationships between women, walking that tightrope of "what did they mean?" What a joy to see this today of all days.
I emigrated to the United States when I was 22 years old. I knew absolutely no one in this country. New friendships were vital to me; without them I had no one to talk to, no one to debrief my new experiences with, and no one to help me navigate the perplexing culture shift in my life (which was all the more perplexing because I emigrated from England, and so didn't anticipate any culture shock at all. Um, duh.) Friendships were everything; they were my support, my sustenance, and opened up new possibilities for me.
I love my friends deeply. Last year my friend Megan and I went on a trip together to celebrate our twentieth friend-versary, because why wouldn't you celebrate this as anniversary as much as any other? (Shout out to Whidbey Island!) This year I'll celebrate thirty years of being friends with my friend Laura, whom I met a week after getting off the plane in the US. Next year it'll be thirty years since I met my friend Ann Marie, whom I literally found through a mailing list about the TV show Friends in 1995. None of us live in the same town, but we make a point of having time together, online and off. And my friends and I absolutely plan to retire together in community.
I don't have family in this country to fall back on . . . except I do. I have a network of friends all over the place, and they have supported me through grad school, moves between cities, in my career, in my heartbreak, in some unspeakably tough times. They truly are the light of my life.
Friend anniversary trips is such a brilliant idea!
Do tell more about your plans to retire together in community! What do you think that will look like? (Are all of you single/un partnered)?
We want to be in the Midwest (where most - but not all - of us are rooted), and we'd like to live out in the country but be close enough to a major city for healthcare. We have a general area picked out. Our housing needs differ - I'd want a small place, for example, on one floor (no kids; no partner) - whereas I have friends who have large families they'd want to have room for. We're a mix of single and partnered folks, queer and not, all within about five years of each other in age. Our ideal is to have land around a central living space - say, a big ole farmhouse in which some folks would live, and around that build smaller units for the introverts and guests. We've talked about housekeeping needs, and care needs, and we all have various family health histories that we're thinking through to anticipate where we might need specialized care or space. We're a good fifteen-twenty years away from this, but it feels so good to gradually map out!
I remember the profound culture shock when we moved from southern California to Edinburgh Scotland when I was ten. So often I got in trouble simply because I didn't understand what I was told, even though we all, in theory, were speaking the same language.
I also celebrate a couple friend-aversaries. It's a wonderful acknowledgment of all that we mean to one another, even as our relationships change over the years.
I had a best friend in college who was probably my first real love. She was a writer, I was a writer. College was a really hard time for me and her friendship and steadiness was a first in my life. She taught me about feminist frameworks and how to recognize power struggles between men and women and people, in general, if they have a different skin color. This was all radically transformative for me. I was raised highly isolated (emotionally, mentally, physically) from the world (we never took vacations and could barely eek away for a weekend to see my grandparents without racing back for Sunday morning service).
And I’ve never known why I proposed to her (now almost 20 years ago) that after college we live together, move to New York to be writers and if we really wanted a man, we could have him outside the house… kind of like a dog on a leash. 😂 I’m still shocked when I think about my idea because I was exposed to NOTHING like this growing up. Hell, I was still a virgin when I was proposing this and I didn’t even have in my mind the idea that we’d be lesbian partners. I didn’t feel for her that way. But I did long to be close to her. It was her company and friendship I enjoyed and I wanted to keep staying with her wherever I went in life. She was still pretty set on christianity and her response to my idea was “WHAT THAT’S CRAZY WE CANT DO THAT.”
A year or two later before she got married, she called me sobbing from a bathroom stall at work, asking “What am I doing with my life?!” She went on to get married anyways and as the old tune goes, we drifted apart but I’ve never forgotten that impulse to just live with my best friend forever, being happy, writing, reading and exploring the world without all the trappings that come with traditional relationships. I wish everyone could live with their first best friend love forever. 🧡
My first best friend is married, but she's still absolutely my person. We don't see each other face-to-face anywhere near as much as I like, but we text and FB msg and Zoom. She is one of three Fairy Godmothers for both my kids. When we get a chance to talk via phone, Zoom, or in person we just drop right in. Her husband, as much as she adores him (and I like him, too), just doesn't have the same level of history with her. He never met her mom (who committed suicide before they met). He wasn't around when she got raped right after we got out of college. The converse is true for any partner I have, especially now. They never met my dad, or went to my parent's house, or knew my brother who died. They weren't with me through my divorce, my cross-country moves, or my post-partum depression. He, obviously, has a depth of daily intimacy with her that I don't, as would any romantic partnership I have, but our relationship has a weight and history that matters.
Weirdly, we haven't lived in the same place or seen each other daily since 8th grade. Or 38 years ago. But here we are. I also wish we could all live with our best friends, but even if we don't we can absolutely center our lives around them. We just have to want to.
I had a friend like that too... Soul sisters, we used to say. We lived together, traveled together, and experienced life together. When she met her partner and got serious, things got more complicated. I'm not sure if I was jealous, but I think I certainly had difficulty sharing her. Also, I really did not like her partner. The last time I saw her was at their wedding. We had a pretty rough falling out. But I'm still grateful for the time we had together...
For the last year and a half I've been living with one of my best friends, and honestly, if it were entirely up to me I would live with her for the rest of my life. We effortlessly back each other up emotionally and practically. There's never any sense of tit-for-tat; it's just, "I love you so why wouldn't I do this thing for you that you clearly need?" She adores my kids (who live with us) and I love hers (though they're both grown and out in the world). Recently she started a new romantic relationship and we had to talk about it. Specifically about my fear that I would lose her to it, which prompted both of us to talk explicitly about what we mean to each other and how we want to prioritize our relationship. This is also timely because she's never actually had a chance to live alone as an adult, so she's moving out this summer. I am SAD, but also understand her drive towards that experience. And I trust we'll live together again in the future if we can.
Optimally, I would prefer to live with a dear friend and then have a romantic partner that lives next door. I don't lose myself in friendship the way I do in romantic partnership historically, so I don't feel like my closest friendships require that bit of physical remove to remind me to be mindful of my autonomy. But my romantic partnerships definitely do, perhaps because we've constructed heterosexual romantic partnerships particularly as this all-consuming thing. I find them weirdly vortex-like, personally. They suck me in in a way I find doesn't benefit me or suit me temperamentally. But my great friendships never feel like that for me. I feel like they help me be more myself, not less.
I loved this interview and all of Rhaina's thinking. I'm also disappointed not to see any reference or homage to the fact that queer communities -- defined broadly throughout history -- have always been at the forefront of centering friendship and creating "chosen family". I've been in queer communities in different places for twenty years now and have seen these practices everywhere. I would guess they are only so novel and new to hetero folks. I hope this is in the book.
Queer inspiration: The Nashville Family of Brothers is an intentional community of celibate men. Founded by a gay guy. We all need community.
Really good point, Jess. I heard her on Ezra Klein's show and she does mention that!
I'm pretty sure it appears in her book! I just read an article adapted from a chapter of her upcoming book in the Atlantic, in which she speaks about friends who chose to be each other's caregivers. She gives data about LGBTQ+ people and the rates of "inter-dependency" in that community are higher than among straight people. It's just that the interview can't cover everything
I think those of us who are widowed eventually learn to reshape our lives around friendship. A bit surprisingly to me, several of those “new“ friendships are actually revivals of young adult friendships. They include a godmother from my adult baptism, the maid of honor from my wedding, a post-college roommate who sang in my wedding, and for whose wedding I baked the cake. Also someone from middle school whose art I collect. Another set are intentionally cultivated neighborhood relationships. I have a potluck with several other unmarried women monthly. I do a lot of work on the neighborhood landscaping, so my face is familiar to almost everyone here. Church is also an important set of connections for me, some of which are growing into friendships.
I love this perspective, Carlene, thank you for adding it
I would love to understand how you found the ability to organize yourself this way. We lost my dad 2.5 years ago. My mom is devastated. I relish my female friendships and am lucky to have several places in my life where a good group of women exist. But, I don't see that for my mom, who spent her life organizing it around my dad. I want this for her both selfishly (I am her network now) and unselfishly (I feel like female friendships truly keep me sane).
Brittany, I'm so sorry for your loss. One thing that is probably different between my circumstance and your mom's is that I lost my husband while my father was failing. So I was able to leave the home where we'd lived together and return to my childhood home/hometown to care for Dad in his last weeks. It was a different kind of difficult to move at that time and live in a home I'd left almost 40 years before. But I think it would have been harder to remain in what had been our house. I was grateful that my sibs let me stay in our childhood home for a couple years while I got my feet under me and while they did the grieving necessary before emptying and selling the house. It will be important for you to know that it takes a couple years to establish any solid friendship, so your mom is likely to be relying on you for a while. If you can identify any of her friends from earlier years who are still living, those will be the easiest connections because they have shared history.
I should add: If your mother is a church goer, there may be other widows there to connect with. Friendship with couples tends to be hard because the idea that couples only hang with couples still endures.
Six years ago I moved back to the town I grew up in and I’m finding some of the same things. Resurrecting some of these long dormant connections has been one of the nicest things about this change for me.
My partner has two best friends from childhood he talks to on the phone every day. As I hear their conversations it ranges from serious talking about relationships and health and jobs but it's mostly shared interests, the football game that was on last night or music or comedy they love. It's one of my favorite parts about him. I have always prioritized friendships and sometimes feel guilty that my imagined end game is to live near my best friend and don't always imagine my partner who I love very much as part of the
picture. But my partner is so encouraging about my maintaining friendships that he has grown to live these people as well. I also live in close proximity to my closest in town friends and while I dream of selling my run down money pit house I also factor in the coast of moving somewhere else where we would have to drive to see one another. I also serve on my city's zoning board and see first hand how vilified multi family housing is. Meanwhile living in a building full of neighbors to call on in times of need sounds like a dream.
I mean this seriously: I think I need to talk to your husband for my book!
I'm happy to put you in touch. You can email me lizcornish @ gmail and I'll make an introduction. He loves to talk ;)
proximity is key! even in my suburban neighborhood that is brimming with fellow mom friends, its difficult for us to actually see each other regularly. one or 2 blocks is a lot when you have little kids. there is something to be said about being able to run into people instead of having to make plans all the time...
my fiancé is like this and I'm SO RELIEVED. He has male and female friends he loves so much and talks to frequently on the phone or over discord. I've been in a relationship with someone more like me before (introvert ND with social anxiety) and carrying the weight of all of his social needs was just too much. So glad to have found a man who likes me a whole lot, but doesn't need me to be his entire support network.
My husband also has a lot of strong female and male friendships. They don't talk on the phone a lot, but basically text back and forth in a series of Signal groups. They are super candid about almost everything, money, relationships, kids. It's great to see, but would be nice if any of them were local.
My mother’s closest friend was our godmother Maxine (I’ve written about her on CulinaryWoman). They met in 1947 when Maxine was a lab technician under my mother’s supervision. Maxine was my mother’s maid of honor. She was there when both my brother and I were born. She and my mum took us on outings so my papa could rest on Sundays. When he died young, my mother invited her to move in. They were a perfect combination: Maxine did things like mow the lawn, grocery shop, and drive (my mother did not drive regularly until after my papa died). My mother was much more social and could get Maxine to dress up and go places. When my mum was in hospice, Maxine slept in her suite every night - I offered to do it, but Maxine wanted to. After my mother died, I told Maxine she could stay in my mum’s house as long as she was able. I eventually became her caregiver, and was there when she died two years ago. Several people asked me if they were an LGBT couple. No, the closest of friends. I’m so glad she was in our lives.
This is such a beautiful story, thank you for sharing.
Thanks for reading!
These type of conversations are always so interesting to me as someone who has never been a friend person. It sounds kind of nice but I'm just not built to be a good friend. Even as a kid the pleasure I got from friendship was always overmatched by overwhelming pressure to act like the kind of person who deserved friends and the guilt of knowing I was just faking it and if they knew who I really was they'd run and the knowledge that people most likely saw through me anyway and were being nice to me out of pity or duty. I could maintain friendships for a couple of years but then felt obligated to fade out of them so my friends could move on. In fact, one of the nice things about adulthood is that there is less pressure to have friends. I have a spouse that is the closest thing to a friend and siblings who I truly adore and who include me in their relationship even though I'm sure they would rather not and everyone else is an arms-length acquaintance - -most of them friendly acquaintances which is preferable to the alternative but not friends. Actually I know one person who keeps acting like she's trying to be my friend - we're going to coffee together today - and I'm so nervous, I just hope I can be who she needs me to be until she can make actual friends. She's new to town and is so nice and I know she'll end up finding her people, but this is a hard place to be a newcomer in and I think she's really lonely.
Just want to say I really appreciate your willingness to approach something that doesn't mirror your own experience as an object of curiosity, not something that's weird or offensive — comments like yours help make these comments' sections really, well, *interesting*
This really resonates with me. I spent a lot of my life both fearing friend rejection way more than romantic rejection and keeping folks at a distance as a subconscious mode of protection. I was extremely self-conscious that I didn't know how to be a good friend and that kept me from reaching out to people. Two things changed that. The first is that I started hanging out with people that I didn't think I had anything in common with. My expectations for friendship were lower, reducing the stakes. That made it easier for me to open up and surprised me when I made legitimate friends. The second is that when it was clear when someone was actively trying to be my friend, I BELIEVED THEM. Most people don't make that kind of effort for nefarious reasons. I am still working hard on being the initiator of new friendship. Letting myself be open to be friend-pursued has made a big difference.
Such an honest and important comment. It reminded me of Christie Tate's memoir, BFF, in which she explores the close friendships she's let go and the patterns she's noticed in why she couldn't maintain close friendships.
I've deleted and re-written a comment about 6 times because it keeps coming out so mopey, but here goes:
Articles like this about the power of female friendships or the strength in sisterhood (acknowledging that most of the above is not gender specific) always make me a little sad. My brain just doesn't do social relationships this way -- they're not easy, they're not relaxing or recharging, and often the enjoyment I get out of spending time with friends is less than or mental and emotional cost. But I need friendships and social interaction, so I do it anyway -- it's good for me in the long term, even if the short term is difficult.
I've made my peace with this (mostly), and given myself permission to stop aiming for this kind of friendship as a goal, because doing that always made me feel worse ("what the fuck is wrong with you? why aren't you relaxing in the cozy glow of your friend group right now? why is this so HARD?"). My friendships don't look like that, and that's ok! But every now and then I get bummed out about it because having a network of friends you love & can rely on just sounds really nice.
Me too. At 47 I have more or less resigned myself to not ever having a friend that actually wants to be my friend. I had a distant friend tell me once that I “have a bad friend picker”. I somehow manage to think I am friends with people who inevitably strap me with expectations of who they want me to be and I used to blame myself for not managing to live up to those expectations and falling short. But now I realize that they haven’t lived up to my expectations either.
I have been called difficult and been insulted repeatedly after trying to be there for people. I have gone over this with my therapist who repeatedly tells me that she thinks I am kind and interesting and engaging. I just wonder if I’ll ever find any friends who actually like me for me someday, whoever I am.
I have been sharing and listening and reading all the Other Significant Other content I can find. I have always valued or at least known I needed friendship in my life but it has taken time to really understand how to "operationalize" to use corpspeak, that in my life. I have an open marriage which is definitely something that gets the eye roll of "I mean, sounds fun, but i can't because of x, y,z". With an open relationship, I realized I needed to put the exact same energy I was putting into dating into dating my existing friends. Dinner dates, concerts we are excited to see, breakfast plans, walks, bike rides, all scheduled and planned and made with a specific person because of our shared interest or thing we wanted to do. All the pre-date stuff too, texting to say you are excited to see them, making reservations, texting about the day and what we both want and how much time we have, and then post-date follow up to say (sincerely) how much fun it was and how I can't wait to do it again.
For a lot of years, I have thought my marriage was less than others because I am married to someone who values independence and time and space. I didn't have the "best friends"/only want each other/do everything together thing. We love specific activities, live really well together, really raise kids well together and are affectionate and loving, love traveling together and as a family and ALSO vacation with friends without each other, take trips with our kids without the other, and go on dates with friends and lovers. I took a lot of time to get over not feeling "chosen" enough or valued because there wasn't what I was seeing out in culture in my life. But I also realized how suffocated I would feel if I felt like I couldn't make independent friends and had some sort of "spouse first" mentality.
I really really love my friends, I feel so much more comfortable talking about being in love with them and for understanding that the mix of romantic, sexual, and friendship love in one relationship is cool if you want it but is also deep, fulfilling and incredible from a number of different people. You just have to spend some time blocking out some of the dominant voices telling you, you are doing it wrong.
I also loved your point about all the pre-date and post-date energy and putting that into friendships. I often say that traveling with friends, for example, is more about the planning than the actual trip. All that discussion, texting, etc. beforehand is so exciting--so much anticipation. And it's bonding to anticipate like that, together.
I too am learning how to "operationalize" friendships that I value in my current town, where I have only been living a short time. Thanks for spelling out for me what's been working for you.
Rhaina is on my podcast next week--- for your fill of more Other Significant Others content. :)
Very thought provoking. Having been in a long term relationship with a man that does not value friendships, can be if you let it, become stifling. I have a visceral need to see my friends and extended family regularly whereas my husband could go months without seeing a soul. To be honest we already live seperate social lives because of this disparity. However, I envisage a time where we live somewhat seperate lives, with my husband living mostly at our holiday home (100s of miles from friends or family, where he is happiest) whilst I stay at home in the city enjoying life with my friends and adult kids. Strangely that thought does not bother me too much at all.
I love this reimagining of what a marriage can be. My husband and I have been married for 25 years (we’re both in our late 40s) but he travels every other week for work. He also used to be in the reserves and was deployed for several months at a time multiple times and we lived across the country from each other for a year early in our marriage. We’ve spent more time apart than together. And we’ve had a really easy marriage. I’m neurodivergent and love having space and time alone. He is extroverted and enjoys being on the go. We both get our needs met and really enjoy the time we have together. In another example of an untraditional marriage, I have a friend who lives separately from her husband and always has. They’ve been married for more than a decade. We can make marriage whatever we want it to be, as long as everyone has input and is on board. I think more creative living arrangements is a great place to start.
Also, I realize you said partnership, not marriage. But marriage is the framework of my relationship, so that’s the word I used.
That's a good way of looking at things, I agree being creative with how we live so we both get what we need is key.
Excited to read this book!! I really enjoyed the article & it clarified a lot of feelings I have. In my late 30s and single, and overall feel pretty ambivalent about marriage and the state of modern romance. Maybe it will happen, maybe it won't, but I feel pretty committed to building a community in my life regardless. I am extremely lucky to have a life long best friend, but she sadly lives across the country.
My friends are very important to me, but the last few years have been kind of hard friendship wise. In 2022 all of my closest friends moved away within a matter of a few months. I have definitely found some new friendships, but these things take time. My biggest complaint for the last few years is that I'm continually ditched by friends when they get into a romantic relationship. My friend that I used to ski and hike with during the week? Started only doing those things with her boyfriend. This winter multiple friends cancelled plans with me, only for me to later find out they did things with their significant other instead. I understand that we all want different things, but it's starting to feel lonely to deprioritize romance for friendship, and then have people not show up.
I'm sorry, that's so tough. I am also pretty ambivalent about being in a partnership, but I don't think I'd feel as chill about that if I didn't have a solid friend community (nearby) that is primarily made up of single women and childless couples. Sometimes I do spiral a bit wondering about, "well what if those childless-by-choice couples decide they DO want kids?"
THANK YOU for addressing the Boston Marriages question! This is the third interview with Rhaina Cohen I've seen this week (congrats Rhaina! you're everywhere and your book sounds amazing!), and I had been wondering where this question was.
I'm also queer, and many queer people I know take great joy in claiming famous people from history for our team based on their romantic/extremely close friendships -- Alexander Hamilton and John Laurens, Rachel Carson and Dorothy Freeman, etc. There's a large part of me that really wants to look at these people and see people like me existing across time. But another part of me knows the evidence is ambiguous at best, and sees the danger of imposing modern identity categories on people from the past. (Although Rachel Carson wasn't that long ago; maybe I'll hold on to her.) Thank you so much for addressing that tension.
I love this. My best friend and her family are coming this weekend and I am so excited to see them. We have always been close but when we each got married and again when we started having children we talked about how important our friendship is and how that can extend to our families. I love being an aunt to her two girls and I love that she and her husband are aunt and uncle to my son.
Once, a couple of years ago, I mentioned to a co-worker that my friend and her family were coming up for the weekend (from two states away) and the co-worker, said, "how nice, does she have family in this area?" (she does not). My friend and I laughed afterwards, saying I should have responded, "Yes, she has family here, ME!"
As an aside - I found "We All Want Impossible Things" incredibly moving.
“These conditions, or three “magic ingredients,” as Lisa Diamond, who’s a psychology professor at the University of Utah, calls it, are: time, togetherness, and touch.”
I have been thinking about this a lot lately in the context of platonic coworker friends. As an adult, the easiest way to get time and togetherness checked off is in the workplace. Yet those are the relationships where touch is the most fraught. When I think of my cis straight male friends, almost all of them are the spouses of my female friends. I have no problem or hesitation in greeting any of them with a hug and a kiss. My friends at work, to whom I am arguably closer, only get a fist bump. That lack of touch leaves me a bit unsettled because it feels like there is no good solution.
I worked in critical care, and that would be a weird one re touch, because we would be in deeply physical scenarios with each other, and sometimes bad things would happen, and some people would be huggers and others..... not and there was no balance, you wouldn't be guaranteed to have a match when a big trauma came in or you had to all say goodbye to a long term patient. But the corporate approach to touch was not employed in that environment. as a hugger, I am a bit lost in the corporate space sometimes!
I was just thinking about this too! I’ve spent more time and togetherness with a number of my coworkers as opposed to my non-work friends recently, but even the idea of giving a colleague more than a handshake feels very fraught. And I don’t think there is a solution. Unless/until you don’t work together anymore.