The Death of the BFF


Given my previous post about the fear of people I love dying, this title feels kinda morbid. But the CT Bestie is totes fine (as are the International Bestie and the Life-Long Bestie). But I was reading Company magazine a few weeks back (yes, this post has been sitting in my drafts for a while) and there was an opinion piece on best friends, particularly female besties. It’s a strange phenomenon. Girls, in my experience, bond quickly and intensely. And fall apart just as easily.

When I was in junior school, I had an ever rotating group of girly besties. The usual dramas ended most of those – popular girls came between us, they made new friends, I made new friends, I wasn’t cool enough and sometimes maybe they weren’t. It never got easier – that snub by someone you thought would be your BFFAE (best friends forever and ever). It always stung, but you always trusted the next girl just as much.

I think a lot of school friendships are often friendships of convenience. Cage together kids of the same age and hierarchies develop. Want to survive? Have a group – any group. Safety in numbers. Plus, kids hunt in packs – have you seen their fangs?

When we leave school – when I left school – many of these friendships fall apart. We head to different varsities, different courses, different countries, different cities – and find people who we have more in common with than a desire to survive high school and a mutual love of whatever band. It gets more complicated post-studying when we’re working the 9-5, making ends meet, being that thing we always avoided – Grown Up.

Apart from my Bestie Triumverate (who strangely have never met each other), the friends I’ve made post-high school are my strongest friendships. There’s less ‘oh but you didn’t invite me to x party’ and more ‘shit, bitch! It’s been ages!’ when we bump into each other. I may not see the lady dudes that I consider to be my friends as often as I used to see the school friends, but the friendships haven’t suffered as much. There’s less drama.

Or maybe I care less about the things that used to bother me (‘you didn’t reply to my SMS but you replied to whats-her-face’s!’).

Growing up, shees.

[P.S. if you’re a school friend/ex-friend/bestie/ex-bestie, don’t take this too personally. One love!]


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