A little thing about friendships
"There is nothing like puking with somebody to make you into old friends" Syliva Plath
I've been thinking about friendships.
When you reach your fifties, you tend not to suffer fools gladly recognising false friends and those seeking your company because you offer them something more valuable than just being friends.
The men or women who are your friends who stand by you through thick and thin, sick and sin, are the true, enduring and unflinching friendships.
I have two very important, dear friends; our friendships span over twenty years.Â
We've watched our children, all six of them, grow and choose different paths, careers and partners while constantly supporting and being happy for each other.
We revel in their successes, commiserating in failure, and express frustration when one or other offspring does something that makes us want to bang our heads against a wall.
We share the ups and downs together, but mostly, we are there for each other, not always physically but most definitely in mind.
My dear now departed Italian grandmother had a saying:
"Puoi contare sulle dita di una mano il numero di amici che hai nella tua vita",
Translated means you can count the number of friends you have in a lifetime on one hand.
In the age of social media, friendships are fickle, flouted online like trophies, only to be discarded at the first obstacle (In my opinion).Â
Framed online, superficially lacking in substance with real depth and meaning.
Liked for something that was done at that moment, a form of acceptance.
Accepting a friend request from someone we don't know or liking someone's post doesn't justify a friendship.
Friendships are, at the essence, the meaning of being human.Â
We are capable creatures able to be self-sufficient and live independently, but other human beings make us complete.
God created Adam and gave him a partner, Eve; we are social creatures who crave human interaction.
Friendships are the basis for relationships; out of friendship comes trust and love.
How did we make friends before social media?
In the late 70s, 80s and early 90s, we had friends we relied on to be truthful and honest.
And I've always lived by the idea that if you don't want to hear the truth, don't ask me because I will always tell you the truth.
There were no smartphones or social media.Â
In Friday's last double history lesson, a handwritten message was passed around the classroom informing everyone where to be that night.
But it worked.
We'd all know about it Friday night if there were future plans for Saturday afternoon and night.
If there was a plan to go to the cinema on Saturday afternoon, we'd all meet by the 'hippo statue' right next to the red telephone box.Â
If anyone was late, one of us would call to find out where they were.
We would wait or continue til they finally met up with the group later.
This is how it was done: simple, straightforward, uncomplicated with no phones.
Cafes and restaurants are filled with people who prefer to look at their phones rather than be with each other.
When the family sits down to dinner, I refuse to have any phones in use - my one rule: talking is much more valuable.
Today's friendships outwardly appear narcissistic; it's all about me - very tiring and demanding, always wanting attention from one another.
The constant use of media filters to make individuals appear more attractive online is a falsehood.
At University, my boyfriend and I would take turns calling each other during the holidays; we'd even correspond, writing love letters and poems, corny, maybe, romantic, yes.Â
It was the only means of contact, but it was sweet.
I think it's why I love to write Christmas cards with little notes to let people know I'm thinking of them; a picture is worth a thousand words, but words on paper express a personal sentiment, ideas, feelings, love, and emotion to the recipient.Â
In the early days of social media, I remember networking events that offered social media use in a business context and how to engage online and then take it offline; dating apps work much the same way.
We didn't have dating apps; it was the wine bar, pub or at a party.
We would meet people in a broader social context - pubs, clubs, gyms, and libraries through other friends, and friendships were formed for life.
It's the inescapable truth that you can have 20,000 friends and not know one; quantity comes at the expense of quality.
The greatest heartbreaks I've experienced have come at the expense of female best friends.
These heartbreaks weighed heavily on my heart.
Sex and the city, four friends caring and sharing life's ups and downs and latterly, And Just like that, still friends navigating life's dramas.
It's fiction, yet it leaves me wishing I could have had a long-term friendship, so it leaves me feeling flat, like maybe I'm not good enough to have a best friend forever.
I carried this need into adulthood, but when I made new girlfriends, I felt suffocated and stifled. They were so needy and demanding because they wanted too much, which is the opposite of me, so I pushed them away.
The biggest heartbreak came at 16 when one of the girls I'd sat with in history class informed me that she and Andrea were now best friends.Â
I was always welcome to come along and hang out with them, but gradually, the invites stopped, and I was left in the cold, wondering what terrible thing I had done.
A context in which I had seen a new girl move from Yorkshire to the Midlands and start a new school at thirteen, and I volunteered to chaperone her.Â
We were inseparable. Our sixteenth birthday was celebrated with our parents also because we were close.
For a long while, I was bereft, and my self-esteem took a nose dive; there was no one to share worries and dreams with, but with time, I slowly moved on with a renewed strength of character.
Perhaps, to this day, my aloofness is a direct result of that breakup.
Forty years on, I have two dear friends, and we can rely on each other to be there when needed the way old friends do.