Better Late than Never
I was sitting on a semi-full train reading “Big Friendship: How We Keep Each Other Close” by Aminatou Sow and Ann Friedman and all of the feels began to rush in. Aminatou and Ann had been taking turns retelling the blossoming of their friendship and explaining the intricacies of what had once made them feel so close—like a team. A sense of longing washed over me as I took stock of the fact that I didn’t have any friendships like theirs.
While that’s okay as a stand-alone fact, I’ll add that I had always wanted a friendship like the one they were describing. I had always dreamed of a friendship where the other person was more like family; where I could trust them with the parts of me that weren’t so pretty, get together just to talk shit and laugh, watch movies, or just relax in each other’s presence without the pressure to make it be anything other than simple intimacy. As I read through the lessons that Aminatou and Ann had learned over the years of their own friendship, I wasn’t sad because I didn’t have a friendship like theirs— was sad because I no longer had a friendship like theirs.
I first met Vanessa in 2017. We were both affiliated with a mutual organization and spent a lot of time together because of it. The more time we spent together, the closer we got. Eventually, we were inseparable. We began spending a lot of one-on-one time together and really talking about our lives and previous experiences. We had a lot in common and bonded over our similarities. In my opinion, the thing that really bonded us was our desire to build a “family” out of a meaningful friendship.
We really opened up to each other and became a duo. When people thought of me, they thought of her, and vice versa. I was four years older than her and in many ways, she reminded me of my younger self. I felt like I was taking her under my wing. I saw a lot of potential in her and wanted to help her grow into the woman that I knew she could be. She was not only my best friend but like the little sister that I never had. She was kind and loving and I felt extremely happy to have her in my life.
Unfortunately, there were a lot of things happening in each of our lives at the beginning of 2020. These personal struggles really began testing our friendship. We were each trying to cope with our own battles while simultaneously being there for the other, a task that is much harder than it sounds. I wanted to be there for her, but there were times when I didn’t know how and neither did she. I was no longer attending the same school as her and had just moved, widening the divide between us—making the tension no longer emotional but physical, too. I had already begun to feel the disconnect between us and her new distraction from our friendship hurt me. I was scared that she was going to choose other people, who I felt didn’t deserve her care or attention, and I began to resent her. I felt alone, something that I had never felt within our friendship. I was afraid that I was losing my best friend. Rather than communicating with one another and talking it out, this new disconnect became a major pain point for our friendship.
In the time between my moving and the ultimate demise of our friendship, I had become angry with her because she was spending a lot of time with some of her other friends whom she still lived and worked near and she was pretty hard to reach when I needed her support. Lacking healthy communication skills and a clear understanding of my feelings, I did what I knew how to do best at the time: I began ignoring her. She was unavailable, so I was going to be unavailable. I just wanted to protect myself from the inevitable moment (so I thought) when she would forget me. Once she realized that I had been ignoring her, she continuously reached out, trying to gain my attention. I eventually gave in, and we ended up getting into a huge fight that resulted in us no longer speaking. Rather, it resulted in me no longer speaking to her and her standing her ground waiting for me to apologize for something I had said that hurt her. Ultimately, with my ego bruised and my pride at my side, I blocked her and never looked back. I felt like I was saving myself from something that would only hurt me more in the long run.
Fast forward to the beginning of 2022. We still had not spoken or attempted to reach out to one another. Prior to reading this book, I had undergone a lot in my personal life, particularly with the beginning and end of both romantic and platonic connections with people that were important to me. I had grown since our altercation and was spending time unlearning old behaviors while learning how to be more open and communicative about my needs and emotions. Now, with a more informed outlook on relationships and a better understanding of what had actually transpired between us, I recognized that I had fucked up.
I lost my most valuable friendship over a misunderstanding because I didn’t know how to express myself in a healthy way. And, I was projecting old feelings onto a new situation out of fear of loss. Her pulling away from me during that time never meant that she didn’t love me or that she wasn’t going to be my friend anymore, the same way that me not always being there when she needed me didn’t mean that I didn’t love her. Instead of identifying that my anger, fear, and jealousy stemmed from something completely unrelated to my friendship with her, I detached myself in an effort to prevent her from hurting me. Which, ironically, ended up hurting me far more over the next few years.
With this insight, I reached out to her to apologize. I debated whether or not I should for a few weeks. So much time had passed and I was sure that she had moved on with her life and wasn’t worried about our friendship anymore. Of course, I was still afraid of rejection, but in this case, I somewhat was prepared for it. Even if it meant nothing, I wanted to acknowledge that I was wrong, not only for what remained of the friendship but for my own growth. I knew that my lack of apology was what hurt her most at that time, and withholding it gave me power in that situation. Something I needed after feeling like I was no longer valuable to her.
After reaching out, we met up and aired everything out. We spoke for hours and each took turns explaining our points of view and how we felt when the argument actually happened. I was no longer feeling attacked by the situation and could now understand her perspective. No love was lost, but much more was gained through being vulnerable with one another—to really speak about how we felt and why we did what we did. While I didn’t expect things to go back to how they used to be, I could appreciate that that conversation would unlock a new level of growth for us both. I had never done something like that before. It was humbling.
It’s been over a year since we reconnected and I am so thankful to have my best friend back in my life. She was present at my engagement, has accepted to be my maid of honor, and has continuously reminded me through her actions that our friendship was worth reviving. We are not perfect– which I now accept as being okay. There are still moments where my insecurities find their way into our friendship and my fear of abandonment kicks in, but I am thankful for growth, emotional intelligence, understanding, and for support. During this new phase of friendship, I am trying to be more communicative and empathetic. And while I always knew that my friendship with Vanessa would facilitate a “coming of age,” I now realize that it was loving her that actually helped me grow up, and not just the other way around. Q
