Friends With No Benefits

We both knew it was over. We skirted around each other for months before either of us had the courage to do anything about it. The drunken nights spent sniping at each other had changed and turned into full-blown fights. They often ended with us holding each other, crying, professing an undying love that neither of us really felt 100 per cent anymore. Brunches were cancelled, nights out as just a twosome would fill me with dread and the gaps between seeing each other grew longer and longer until eventually, there was no denying it anymore, it was time to have THE talk.

But this would be worse than any other type of break up because it wasn’t with a fling or even a partner at all. This was a friendship that had died and ending it, instead of pretending everything was fine, would leave me with feelings of grief and guilt that are still hard to shake.

I’ve had two friendships fall apart in my lifetime and they were two of the most difficult breakups I’ve ever had. And I’m divorced.

I think women are sold an impossible dream when it comes to friendships. They are magical, they are perfect, they are what holds you up when everything is coming down around you. And often they are all of those things and more. I have friendships like that, women who are there to laugh hysterically with me, to sob with me, to dance like a wildling ‘til all hours of the morning. Women who know my soul and all my secrets.

But alongside these friendships are ones that are perfect for the life you’re in at a particular time, ones that are just what you need when they come along and sometimes those friendships aren’t built to last. Men do this really well, they have close friends of course, but they also have a wide circle that are great for a pint occasionally, a game of golf. They don’t tend to dwell on relationships that aren’t 100%, they understand fleeting friendships and ones that have a specific purpose. But as women, we try and make each friendship a perfect one. It’s possibly cliché to mention Sex and the City but I think the message of friendship sold by Carrie, Samantha, Miranda and Charlotte is one of huge pressure. These are four completely different women and sure, they could have had lovely meaningful friendships, but they also maybe should have cut one or more free as it became clear that their lives and values were too different to survive decades and decades of bickering. The show also featured the old trope that women don’t need men, their female friends could be their real soulmates which would be all fine and good if you didn’t see Carrie chase a complete prick episode after episode to the point where most of her friends were sick of her carry on. ‘If you love them should you set them free?’ might have been a better question for Carrie to ask herself about both friends and partners as she wrote in her completely unaffordable Manhattan apartment.

Dr Brené Brown, when talking about shame, discusses the types of friends that you can have. The ones who listen to you share a story when something goes wrong and say ‘oh Jesus, oh no’ and make you feel worse, the ones that say ‘yeah that’s bad, but wait ‘til you hear what I did’ and try to one-up you, and the ones that are silent in their disappointment and make you feel guilty for letting them down. Then there are the ones who listen with empathy and say ‘right, let’s get through this together’. Brené says that we’re incredibly lucky to get even one of these friends, if you get more than that it’s a total bonus. That there are friends that earn our stories.

I think there’s a lot of sense in what Brené says, should we all at this stage in our lives be looking for the person that listens with empathy and invest in quality over quantity in our friendships?

(I will also say quite forcibly here that we should be saying All Hail Brené Brown - if you’re not listening to her podcasts and reading her books and you’re over 40, what are you doing?)

We need friends who will sit up late at night and cackle with us. Who will talk about the worries you have for your children for hours, who will coach you through difficult work situations, who will nod sagely as you complain about your partner but will embrace them and say nothing when they next see them. We don’t need friends who cause drama, who make things difficult, who you dread seeing...

Are we doing all women a disservice by exalting female friendship and treating it as something that cannot be changed or lost, that must last forever? Is the guilt and grief caused by the loss of a friendship just another stick to beat ourselves with? Should we be more accepting that we change, our lives change and so too do our friendships? Is it time for a friendship audit?

It sounds good and freeing and sensible, but like everything else it’s complicated, it’s true that breaking up is hard to do and female friendships, in particular, can get nasty before they end. Which is very sad. Wouldn’t it be nice, when all is said and done, to be able to exchange occasional messages, to show support in difficult times and to acknowledge, that for a while when things were good and you were great friends? Like being friends with your ex but better, because you’ve never slept with them and you’re not mortified every time you look at them!

Jennifer Stevens, August 2020.