I Don’t Have a Best Friend. Am I a Loser?

I know it’s not compulsory to have a best friend, outside of my best friend relationship with my husband. But I’m struggling with the idea that I don’t have one.

And, like all people wondering, I’ve come to the internet to ask: am I normal?

Before you answer and before this turns into a Reddit-like thread where people either tell me I am as I perceive myself or I am a strong confident person who doesn’t need anyone, hear me out.

This whole best friend thing has me in a spin. And I’m pretty sure I know why.

I had best friends

It’s not like I’ve never had friends. In my time, I have had what I would consider four true best friends. Two guys and two girls. All I no longer speak to, but I do miss them.

Strike that. I don’t know what I miss. I can’t tell if I miss them or miss friendship like theirs. What I do know is I don’t miss what they did to me or how they made me feel in the end.

The two girls were school friends and sort of overlapped. When one ultimately screwed me over, public humiliation and all that comes with it, the other stepped in. I felt bad I hadn’t elevated the second girl to best friend status earlier. She would never have done what the first girl did.

But as time went on, the two girls from the same breeding and the same messed up friendship values became clones of each other. Once again, I was humiliated by a best friend, in public, with everyone to see. And there was no one to really help me get through it.

As you might be able to tell, I haven’t wanted to find a new female best friend. I fear history will repeat itself. Fool me twice and all that.

The two guys? I still look at what happened with them in confusion. One ran off with girl one, and both kept it from me. I didn’t react well to their nearly year-long affair conducted with everyone else in the know but me.

And the second guy vanished on me. We haven’t exchanged messages since 2017. I would like to say we grew apart, but I’m not so sure that’s the case.

I know a secret about him that he doesn’t want anyone, especially his wife, to know. Through experience, I’ve learned people don’t hold people close when they probably should.

Instead, they put you on the metaphorical shelf and hope you will stay silent. If you aren’t there, you can’t be a liability.

What they don’t realise is the more they ghost me, the less incentive I have to keep their secret. My loyalties no longer exist.

But that’s for another time. Let’s get back to being a loser.

I thought I had a best friend recently

It wasn’t that I was hunting for a new best friend, but I did think I had made a connection with someone. As this person is still in my life, I don’t want to reveal any more details about who they are. I wouldn’t want them to spot themselves in this article and destroy what we have.

Not that they are reading this, which is half the problem. I doubt they care or could even say what I’m doing with myself right now. I’m sitting here thinking our connection is closer than it is.

But as I watch as the months come and go, and don’t hear from them or receive any extensions of friendship, I’m convinced I’m living in delusional land. A land where I think someone is who they aren’t capable of being.

I’m discovering, even into my mid-thirties, how people let you know they love you.

They show it with the same enthusiasm you have. They want to spend time with you, know who you are, be in your life.

I get we’re all busy with adult problems. Yet this doesn’t make us immune from being good friends and showing how we care.

Do I need a best friend for my mental health?

Here is the $64,00 question; do I need a best friend? School-age me would have said yes. Young adult me would concur. Burned, scarred and dubious now-me isn’t so sure.

I know we all need friends for our mental health. Solitude is as necessary as socialisation. We as human beings need balance.

But best friends? It can feel like a Hallmark invention, like Valentine’s Day. It’s a concept that we use as a social status rather than something we need. It’s about winning when there is no competition. Why does one person have to be the best of all our friends? Why do we have to put one person above all others?

Best friends, as I know, let you down. Their best status doesn’t guarantee a lack of hurt or pain. And it doesn’t reward us with some grand prize at the end of the day.

If a best friend can hurt you so much, are they compulsory for our mental health? I’m having my doubts.

Why am I worried about other people’s judgment?

I think we moved up the $500,000 question. This is what it all comes down to. I’m over here worrying about what people think of my lack of a best friend. And my small friendship circle as well.

In life, we’re conditioned to think more means better. We’re better people if we have more money, more pairs of shoes, more vacations, more houses.

Friendships are another measure of our status. The more we have, especially the ones who are the best, the better we are.

Age and wisdom are beginning to kick in (finally) and I’m realising quality over quantity makes you the winner.

Anti-friendship-hoarding

People can be friendship hoarders. I know a few.

They keep people in their life, invite them to parties, keep them on Facebook, catch up with them once a year, even though they don’t want to.

They know these people are bad for them, or they don’t actually like them anymore or have nothing in common with them.

Heaven forbid they let a friend go. There is something inside them that can’t part with friends. But like a pair of sneakers falling apart at the seams, they need to go. It’s wrong to keep them around.

Yet they remain.

Friendship hoarders don’t know they are doing it. They are the ones who have hundreds to thousands of friends on Facebook and post a happy birthday picture for every one of them.

They don’t realise that being friends with a thousand people makes them a bad friend. On the numbers alone, you can’t be a good friend to that many people.

There are not enough hours in the day.

Am I a loser?

Here is what I know about my life. I am not a loser. But it’s more than likely I’m missing out, especially on something I want. I wouldn’t object to a best friend right now. But if it happens, it happens.

I need to keep telling myself, we are not defined by the number of people we have in our lives. I’m not less of a person because I don’t happen to have an invisible contact between myself and a plutonic mate.

I am not a loser.

Now, someone please back me up on this.

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Hey, I’m Ellen and I’m here divulging stories about my life. Learn from me, laugh at me, seek comfort in the highs and lows.

If you love what I do, join me! I would love to have you along for the ride!

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This post was previously published on medium.com.

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