in good company
notes on girlhood, nostalgia, and the joy of friendship
The sweetest memories are often shared. Relating to others is how we fuel our existence — laughing at the same jokes, basking in the same moments, and spilling every detail with those we care about is one of the joys in life. Some of the happiest moments of my life were spent with my best friends. We listened to each other during the bad times and uplifted one another in the good. Surrounded by friends, time is lost and the days sweep into nights filled with endless storytelling, dancing, and laughing until your abs hurt.
That defines girlhood. Even if you’re interacting with strangers, there’s an underlying camaraderie between women — an unspoken understanding possibly born out of misery loves company. Healthy gossip in the bathroom line, a spontaneous compliment, sharing beauty tips, and doing each other’s hair is all part of it. But when two strangers can come together and create a friendship, that bond is sacred — a bond where you can be both silly and serious and yourselves.
As children, friendship is a catalyst for playtime. Growing up in a suburban neighborhood in Southern California, I would spend my time running around the streets with the other similarly aged kids. We would ring the doorbells, shouting “can Abby come out and play?” And we would race in the grass until our lungs filled with pangs from too much heaving. We’d draw with colorful chalk until our knuckles scraped against the asphalt and bled into our hopscotch and butterfly creations. There was no individual interest aside from being together. We would share things, giggle, and pick flowers to make witchy potions. One time, I dared my younger brother to eat a little yellow flower growing from a weed.
He threw up.
Kind of insane behavior.
I recently found myself looking through the library of A24 movies to feel something. I settled on The Florida Project. How I wept. I ached for my younger self. It was catastrophic. The film is described by A24 as “Warm, winning, and gloriously alive. Sean Baker’s The Florida Project is a deeply moving and unforgettably poignant look at childhood.”1 Initially, it made me smile reminiscing those moments, but it ultimately left me depressed. Longing for the spirit of blissful innocence, yearning for what once was — nostalgia.
“It’s a strange thing: the memory of a scene from the distant past, haunted by people who have grown up or grown old or are no more, doing things that are no longer done in a world that no longer is. And yet it all seems so vivid in our minds that we can still see the glint in their eyes or the twitch at the corner of their mouths. Sometimes we even say their names under our breath as though this might magically return them.”2
I was reminded of how naive childhood is — completely unaware of the struggles our parents went through to shield us from their adult reality. I’ll never experience the ignorance of pure youth again, now that I’ve seen it from their eyes. I started to think about those childhood girls from the neighborhood I spent my formative years with. Where are they now? Was life good to them? Or has life been cruel or unfair? Are they lonely? It’s odd to think that once upon a time we were close, basically inseparable, only to have grown apart. Thus, receding back to the strangers we once were.
I recently read Brutes by Dizz Tate, which is a phenomenal story about childhood bonds and the transition from groupthink to adulthood. It follows the story of a disappearance of a local teenager that this pack of “brutes” idolized, following around in the shadows of tall swamp grass in their small American town. They speak in “we’s” and feed off each other until they start developing their separate voices —breaking the novel out into individual perspectives. Growing into teenagers, we began to realize there’s more to friendship than just living close by and having access to a scooter (RIP our ankle bones). Friendships became more complicated when they extended beyond the neighborhood pavement and into the world of self-consciousness. It was now about what clothes you liked, what music you listened to, and what niches you were involved in — and this fueled insecurity. You’ve been given more freedom of choice and it now dictates where you sit at lunch, and more importantly, your friend group. That’s what defines you now, your friends.
Friendships as a teen and young adult are often hard to maintain. These are the ones highly praised if they have lasted into adulthood, but they’re also the goodbyes (or lack thereof) that hurt the most. There’s a natural, anticipated separation when you graduate or move on from whatever sport or activity brought you together in the first place. But since our memories as teenagers are easier to recall in our adult life, it’s easier to then remember them in vivid detail. Looking back at your childhood friends, you think of the grubbiness and adventure of youth. Looking back at your high school friends, you’re reminded of the first times you felt independent. These friends were there during the early days leading up to your adult life. Your first kiss, your first sip of alcohol, your first concert, your first moments of life’s “firsts.” And that’s why these friendships are so painful to move on from. Especially when they lack reason or closure.
I think about one of my high school friends in particular a lot. More than she thinks of me. Probably. We would stay up until 2am watching The Other Guys. We would drive up and down PCH with our new licenses, screaming the words to “Fancy” by Iggy Azalea and Charli XCX. We laughed until we peed our pants (SEVERAL times). And one day, we began to fizzle. I tried to talk to her about it, but she flaked on plans. I stopped trying after a while and accepted never knowing what really happened. And that hurts, to now watch your old friends’ lives on social media, celebrating achievements that you’re no longer a part of. Those adolescent “firsts” have evolved and are now called milestones. You could be part of someone’s first relationship, but not part of their marriage. Haunted by the memories and the what ifs, forced to see them through the prison of your smartphone. Taylor Swift said it best in Last Kiss (2010):
So I'll watch your life in pictures like I used to watch you sleep
And I feel you forget me like I used to feel you breathe
And I'll keep up with our old friends just to ask them how you are
Hope it's nice where you are
It’s the worst breakup in life to lose a good friend.
Friendships are not unlike partners. They have all the elements of a romantic relationship and none of the sex. You can’t rely on physical attraction to gaslight you into thinking you actually enjoy spending time together. You have to just straight up fucking like each other. There is no kiss and makeup when you have a row. You have to swallow your pride and meet at an awkward, inconspicuous, Italian restaurant to share a meal and work it out on the remix. Adult friendships are honestly really hard. Elements of competition and jealousy threaten to boil over if unchecked. Especially when you do have a lot of common interests, feeling like you have to be “first” to discover something. But to make a friendship last, you have to be able to confront each other and admit your feelings. It’s no longer like being 3 years old, crying to the teacher that some bratty kid stole your crayon. There’s no adult to mediate and say in a ~gentle teacher voice~ “Okay, please give it back and apologize.” You have to suck it up and be able to laugh about it later. It’s a big leap in a friendship to be able to do this.
I never had a sister. I’m the older sister to my one brother, who’s really very sweet and never tried to steal my clothes. But, I don’t have the innate understanding of fighting with your sister and making up that same day. And don’t get me wrong, my brother and I fought all the time to be first, have the best, and receive the most praise in a highly ambitious household. Nevertheless, I think there are things about being a sister to a sister that add depth and understanding to female friendships as adult women. So it’s taken years of growth and introspection to understand how to foster the perfect best friends with the other girls in my life. And I really do have some friends I would consider on this “sister-level.”
HI SISTERS!!
(triggered)
Finding people you can laugh about the silliest things with but also laugh about the times you disagree is the ultimate goal. It’s okay to struggle with feelings of insecurity. We were raised by horrible standards for women, a moral right and wrong way to exist. There’s a Sex and the City episode aptly titled “Frenemies” where Samantha and Charlotte butt heads over their differences on sex. Charlotte, struggling in her accidental celibacy marriage to Trey (*gags*), lashes out at Sam for treating sex as flippant and casual. It’s obvious that Charlotte is envious, but she then realizes that she judged too hard. The episode ends with Charlotte calling Sam to gush that her and Trey had sex and Sam takes the high road, being a true friend, by congratulating her. Such is life to have differences. But only real friendships know how to take those differences with a grain of salt because at the end of the day we deeply care about each other more.
xoxo,
nicole
https://a24films.com/films/the-florida-project
https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/hide-and-seek/201411/the-meaning-of-nostalgia
This was such a lovely piece🥹
You're inside my brain girl. Lovely stuff here.