I apologize in advance, because this is kind of long, but I've been thinking about this topic for a while so I thought I'd post something I blogged about...
*****
I got to chatting with one of the girls from our soccer team on the way home from a game. She was excited for me over the idea that I was starting school yet again.
"I started a Masters program hoping to find a (new) best (girl) friend", she said.
"Really?" I asked. She had an ebullient spirit, was one of the nicest people I'd ever met - if a bit overzealous. Very pretty, too. I found it surprising that she had such troubles.
"Yes," she replied. "I have a lot of acquaintances. Some very good acquaintances. But you know, I just don't seem to have that one best friend." I gave her a rather doleful look.
"I understand," I said. Because I did.
She proceeded to explain to me that while in high school she had been part of - in the simplest of terms - a French immersion program. Like my own Gifted program, it had resulted in a neat pre-packaging of "friends", a handful of girls who were similar in some ways but unfortunately dissimilar in most. All throughout high school it allowed the benefit of not having to think about who your friends were, because they were there, the people you took every class with, had every spare with and conveniently shared lunch with. Friends by design.
In reality, things couldn't be further from the truth. A more unlikely group would be difficult to find; apart from our education, many of us had little in common. By extension, it is doubtful that we would have been friends at all, had things happened any other way.
My teammate agreed.
"What happened in undergrad?" I asked her. (My bf had long marveled at my inability to establish lasting friendships while at school).
"I went to U of T," she replied and I had to smile in understanding.
U of T is a commuter campus. Unlike many other major universities, people don't stick around long enough to establish those lifelong bonds that have you inviting them to be your bridesmaid or best man or god parent to your first born. You'd be lucky if, at best, you were close enough to invite them (or be invited) to a barbecue.
(Unfortunately, I know for a fact that we aren't the only ones to have felt this way. A few years back I spoke to a few of my students on this very subject, guys that you know would have been popular in high school. Good looking, intelligent, athletic types, who played Varsity football for our university. "U of T is an impossible place to make friends," they'd said. Well, hell. If they couldn't do it, what hope did I have?)
In all my years of making these observations, I'd never met anyone in quite the same position as me. Her hurt resonated, as I'd felt the same way she had for ages.
"So you joined a Masters program so you could find a best friend?" I asked.
"Yeah. It didn't work though," she laughed. "I'm still looking."
In that respect, I count myself lucky. I have befriended a few wonderful men while in grad school and while that genuinely deep connection is often difficult to come by, I can acknowledge that I have it with a few of my guys. Women however, not so much.
Maybe I should stop trying? I often think. But of course, I know I won't.
There's something unique about a connection between two women that my boys just can't replicate. It's been a long time since I've sat down with a girl and really shared things about our lives. A long time since I've dealt with anything other than selfishness.
Vaguely, I wonder whether my teammate regrets being a part of the French immersion program. I've been bitter about having been Gifted for years. In some ways, I blame it for stealing my ability to establish meaningful connections on the basis of merit. Perhaps that's why I've had girlfriends of convenience for so long - shallow, retched, women who have done little more than take from me physically, emotionally and mentally. When I sit back however, I realize it's illogical to blame my lack of true female friends on my high school experience. Ten years later, it's definitely more than time to get over it.
I've always said that for me, making friends is a thousand times more difficult than dating. With some degree of humility, I must confess that I'm almost certain I could date (and likely find myself in another serious relationship) quite quickly and with little effort. Men, it seems, have never been my problem.
While dancing on the weekend (the lone girl in a group of six or seven guys, jokingly encouraged to "stay here so that we don't look gay!") I lamented about my situation yet again. Consolingly, one of the guys said, "You don't need girls... You have us!" It's true. And a more wonderful group of men would be difficult to find.
But we always want what we don't have. And I can only ogle hot girls for so long until being the only girl in the group starts to feel a little lonely.
I turn back to my teammate on the ride home from our game.
"I'll be your best friend," I said.
"BFFs?" she grinned. (And I had to laugh because we're both twenty-seven; a little too old for nonsense titles).
"Yeah...why not."
The other girl with us was smiling, too.
There's always trepidation. Just as in romantic courtships, nobody ever wants to get their hopes up but you're a little too high to think the absolute worst.
She waves to me as she exits the subway.
Soccer may just be the best thing to ever happen to me. At very least, I have wonderful teammates.
