A Love Letter to My Girlfriends
I think Carrie Bradshaw was right about soulmates.
My mother always says that her mother always said, “women need women.” I’m going to keep the tradition going: women need women. Three short words that could never do justice to the need that I’ve had for the women I’ve met in my 35 years. I met my oldest and (still) dearest girlfriend when she asked if she could play My Little Ponies with me in preschool. I met some of my newest and closest friends in the past six months through my part time job at a spin studio. This is a love letter to them and to every female friend in between. It doesn’t matter if we had a compliment fest in a bar bathroom once, if we had a falling out a decade ago, or if we currently have 27 unread texts in our group chat.
This is to you.
Dear You,
Remember playing MASH when we were younger? We’d decide our destiny with the help of a paper from our Lisa Frank notebook and a gel pen. I have yet to pull my Lamborghini into the garage of my mansion to find a shirtless Leonardo DiCaprio hanging by our pool with the twisty slide. Like most of us, my life has not gone the way that I dreamed it would in the protection of my Dear Diary. (If you’re one of my sweet friends who was teething while I was writing five paragraph essays and eating Dunkaroos, click the links for a tutorial and then keep reading). I am finally at a place where I can say that I’m grateful my life didn’t go the way I thought it would. While at times, that has been a source of pain and struggle in my life, it has also been a gift. In many cases, my life not going the way I had expected led me to you.
There was that time in fourth grade when you told us all of the things our older sister told you about periods. There was that time in sixth grade gym class when I had another you ask that boy if he’d go out with me. He said no, and you hugged me in the locker room. There was that time that a boy called me “Triple A MaryKay” in middle school because I didn’t even need the training bra I was wearing, and you told him to F Off. There was that time that I made you drive by my crush’s house in high school and You had to do a 7 point turn in front of his house while he was having a party. The same you also drove to my college to pick me up in the middle of the night because I needed you. There was that time that you walked to the Grotto at college with me to light candles and sit in comfortable silence. The same you and I also somehow had the most fun sitting on our dorm room floor eating Bertucci’s sausage soup and watching Fear Factor or SVU every night before bed. There was that time that you and I laughed our asses off (in the way that only you and I could) about how broke we were and that we had no business being on a train ride to New York City for a girls weekend. There was that time that you and I got yelled at in the streets of New Orleans because we were wearing Patriots t-shirts after they beat the Saints. There was that time that I was in the driveway of the apartment you and I shared together when the man who told me he was saving to buy a ring said, “I don’t love you anymore. Be an adult and get out of the car.” I ran inside and sobbed in your arms. And after that same breakup, even though we hadn’t talked in a while, a different you sent me the sweetest text and a link to Rachel Platten’s “Fight Song.” (We haven’t stopped talking since). And after that SAME doozy of a breakup, another you sent me flowers to work with a note that I still have in my desk. There was that time that you spent the first few hours of your birthday in the Emergency Room making me laugh while I was the reason we were there. There was that time that I had late night Dominos delivered to your apartment by accident and you texted me, “but you need food, too.” The same you has always been the first to tell me, “Maybe you don’t like him anymore. And that’s okay, even if he’s nice.” There was that time that you and I hadn’t talked in a very long time, and when I spilled my heart out for all to read, you texted me “seriously- your post. It is viral material- down for a solo walk anytime.” There was that time when you felt so comfortable on The Couch That’s Heard It All that you slept there instead of going home. There was that time that 11 yous made my 35th boat birthday party feel like the best bachelorette party I’ve ever been a part of. There was that time when I was crushed to learn that after training to be a spin instructor, I didn’t make it. You sent me an email the next morning with the subject “for when it’s still really painful.” The same you has become my chosen family in our home that is filled with problem-solving-couch-conversations, plants (that only you water), endless wine, safety, Glennon + Abby references, and fruit that always goes bad before we eat it. The same you has inspired me to believe in myself and to grow in ways that I didn’t know I could.
To all of these yous, and to every other you that has danced with me on the table and sat with me in the dark: thank You. You are my greatest love story.
Love,
Me
