In childhood, finding a BFF seemed so easy. When you found someone at school who didn’t yell “cooties” and run away, you asked them to play. If they laughed at your jokes and didn’t make fun of what your mom packed you for lunch, boom. Done. You shared matching necklaces just to seal the deal.
Adulting is way more complicated. Too complicated, I tend to think. So much more is at stake. Life teaches us to be more wise in selecting friends.
But I feel like I’ve selected myself into a weird no man’s land.
Facebook is frequently filled with gushing tributes to besties. I will grin at the quippy memes of old ladies in swimsuits frolicking on the beach. But that’s as far as I can relate. I don’t join in the tagging of friends on said memes. I don’t forward them to anyone.
Because I have no BFF.
It’s a strange place to be. Amazing, beautiful women fill my life, women whom I call friend and mean every letter of the word. Women I would gladly sacrifice for. Women who pray for me, love on me, support me, encourage me, stand by me. Women I do the same for.
But when someone asks me, “Who is your best friend?” I don’t know what to say. I am not lonely for friendship yet I feel alone in a world of besties. The odd one out. The last one standing on the wall at the dance.
I don’t really have that one woman who is like family, like a sister. The one I call into the closed-door moments of my life and entrust her to take on the full weight of my burden.
I am a Monica looking for a Rachel.
I long for a gal pal whom I would not hesitate texting in the middle of the night for no other reason than to see if the latest “This Is Us” episode is keeping her up too. Someone whose burdens I shoulder with loving joy, trusting she will do the same for me when the time comes.
I long to do life with someone who knows my unscrubbed prayer request and loves me anyway. Someone who knows my real weight.
I long for someone in whose presence I can simply, finally, thoroughly exhale, no pretensions. No makeup, even. Someone who is equally comfortable around me.
I have so much I am longing to share, in a meaningful, fruitful relationship that goes deeper than an interaction on Facebook or the occasional coffee date.
Meaning that only comes with investment in each other, and a whole lot of unflinching grace. Something they write books about. Maybe something I would write a book about.
If only I could find her.
I’m tempted to believe somewhere along the way I did in fact develop cooties. Or maybe I still need to learn to be a better friend. Or maybe I’m a great friend but have bad timing and everyone already has a BFF.
I’m tempted to tell myself to get used to living BFF-less. After all, it is possible to live without a BFF. But I can’t let go of the notion I have something great waiting for me. Because I can’t let go of the hope God designed human relationships to gravitate toward depth.
As he paired David with Jonathan, so too do I believe he will pair me with my adult BFF. I remain hopeful he will bring us together, at the appointed time, in a predetermined place, for a preconceived purpose.
Yes, she is out there somewhere.
Maybe just around the bend.