Facebook recently reminded me that the author of this blog and I have been friends for 7 years. Without the automated reminder, I’d have certainly remembered anyway. A feisty friend, mother, daughter, coworker, boss, and wife. She’s the best of the best, and is definitely not paying me to say this. Several times in my life, I have experienced an overwhelming feeling that I am exactly where I’m supposed to be, and our flight to Kenya together over 7 years ago was one. For some context, another one was last week when a work meeting finished at 6pm half a block away from Burrito Boyz. Sometimes things just happen for a reason. But she is special.
We began our friendship at a more similar stage of our lives- one that involved: a brand new job, copious amounts of vodka Redbulls, the desire to fall in love with a Vampire, and, overall the youthful freedom to dream big and experience all the world has to offer. Since then, she has (re)found her life partner, got married, and has two amazing babes who I love more than I could have imagined. Through the years, diverging milestones, and across many miles, she is an amazing, and constant friend.
My life, spoiler alert, still unequivocally involves lame first dates, more alcohol than I should admit to my doctor, nonsenses such as Tinder, and occasional walks of shame. You could say “I’m dating”- I.E. my relationships typically don’t last longer than a box of condoms. In the last 3 years of single-hood, I have not found myself in male’s bed that had more than one pillow and/or involved matching bedding and/or had pillowcases. I assure you these are statistically significant results. At this point, I’d give a standing ovation to a futon that actually had sheets on it. While it’s been a ton of fun, I’ve learned a lot and there is nothing I would change, (and all that crap you’re supposed to say), these guys have shown an equally mature commitment to being reliable human beings as they have to the sanctuary where they spend nearly a third of their lives. It is stereotypical to say it’s tough out there, but I’m going to need to reinforce this notion.
While I am a single, near 30-year-old who, deep down, does wish that the above was exaggerated, my life most importantly involves amazing friends. I spend as much time and energy as possible with incredible women who bring meaning to my life. If, in addition to that, I have time to go on a date, I certainly will. After all, there is only so much sex you can have with yourself. But I don’t believe that “finding love” as a focus of my day-to-day time and energy will serve me. After all, I think I’ve already found it. At this point in my life- where some people would say I’m running out of time- there is too much good, fun and love to be had elsewhere.
My social media feeds seem to disagree. It becomes more and more filled with marriages, babies, and growing families by the day. And I love it. While I’m not comparing my level of happiness with others, I do feel that the world sometimes is. I don’t have a man, ring, or kid, to show the world. Maybe, my happiness and accomplishments are harder to show the world through these mediums. Instead, I will show it to my amazing friends and family through my time, actions and love.
The author of this blog sent me a quote on Instagram the other day, which was what I already had on my mind to write about for this post:
“The bond between a girl and her friends is a powerful thing. With all the emphasis we place on finding the man of our dreams, I think far too many of us lose sight of one of the greatest love stories we’ll experience in life: the one with our friends”.
Maybe this will be my greatest love story, and if so, it will be more than enough.
Written by the first feisty anonymous guest blogger, who, coincidentally, would like to remain anonymous.