Notes From an Average Girl | Female friendships

The day before I left for my spring break trip, my bedroom looked as if a tornado had passed through. Every drawer in my dresser was open and clothes were falling over and spilling onto the floor. My closet door was thrown open, revealing clothes halfway to the floor, broken hangers and a mound of shoes. On my bed sat an open, empty suitcase next to piles of bikinis, shorts and crop tops. 

I pulled out my phone and, through teary eyes, texted a group chat with seven other girls, declaring none of my jean shorts fit after a winter filled with chocolate and ice cream. Feeling defeated and unhappy with my body, I prepared to pack baggy t-shirts and sweatpants, but within seconds, I received responses, FaceTimes and phone calls offering shorts, skirts and encouraging affirmations. Thirty minutes later, my friend walked into my bedroom, carving a path through my mess, and handed over all her shorts for me to borrow. She sat in my bed as I modeled outfits for her and, before I knew it, my suitcase was packed, I had shorts that fit perfectly and a better appreciation for my body. 

This group chat of seven girls consists of people I’ve known for just under two years — some of them even less — yet it feels like I’ve known them my whole life. Through shared closets, inside jokes and endless days spent together, they’ve become my family away from home. My apartment acts as our home base — the door is always open for the girls, some who live there and some who don’t, but none of them require an invite. 

During the fall semester, I woke up early on a Sunday morning and couldn’t fall back asleep. I walked out of my bedroom to find a friend asleep on my couch. I hovered over her until my breathing startled her and she jerked awake. I giggled and laid down on the other side of the couch, her feet in my face and mine in hers. We remained silent and soon fell back asleep, together on a tiny couch. 

A few months later, I sat on the same couch with two other girls. Eventually, the three of us became intertwined — my legs across a lap, a head on my shoulder, an arm draped across a stomach. We lay like this for hours, unmoving other than our chests rising and falling as we breathed and talked and laughed. 

These two memories of us tied together and squashed on a couch are ones we reminisce about frequently. We choose to think about these mundane moments because of the safety and comfort of each other’s company. The instant sleepiness I felt that Sunday in the fall and the pure enjoyment of doing nothing in the company of others is something I can only attest to the love and friendship I share with these girls. 

They are my best friends, but more importantly, they are my best girl friends. There’s something special when it comes to female friendships. While my guy friends will try and wingman for me, none of them are capable of finding out the entire family tree of the boy I’m crushing on through Instagram and Facebook stalking. They may loan me a sweatshirt when I’m cold, but none of them are going to give me the shoes off their feet because mine were giving me blisters.

There are always the types of girls that say things like “I’m only friends with guys because they’re less drama.” Those are the kinds of phrases my friends and I roll our eyes at. In my experience, when it comes to real female friendships, the furthest the drama goes is yelling at each other because one person is chewing with their mouth open and the other is annoyed. At the moment, we’ll both be pissed, but within the hour it’ll either be forgotten about or laughed about. Despite our bickering, we never question the integrity of our friendship. Some call that drama, but I call that love.

My best friends and I are a reflection of each other. When I can’t think of someone’s name, they know who I’m talking about. When one of us hyperfixates on a new snack, we all hyperfixate on a new snack. We pick up on and mimic each other’s mannerisms. We like and dislike the same people. We use the same phrases. Yet, my best friends are better than me. They encourage me to love myself. They show me how to be selfless. They are who I strive to be. My female friendships are the best thing that ever happened to me.