In my mid-twentIes I had a best friend. It was one of those heady relationships that makes you feel you’re constantly in the sunshine – even in Manchester, where we both lived at the time. I lit up when I was around her. She made me grow.
I was also blinded by her, in a lot of ways. Our friendship lasted five years; it wasn’t healthy, but it was glorious. And, naturally, I got burned. That friendship, and its demise, was one of the inspirations for my novel Animals – a book that has just become a film, telling the story of two friends whose lives go in different directions after one becomes engaged. I poured my friendship highs and hurts into the screenplay. The film premiered at Sundance and we have been blown away by the response – from reviewers, festivals and women who have seen it and said they could relate to it so much. Female friendship is a theme in more and more books, films and TV shows, from this year’s best-seller Queenie to Booksmart and Big Little Lies.
It’s great that more light is being shed on this major – weirdly uncharted – part of so many women’s lives. Friendships are often the most complex relationships of our life, and yet aren’t given the same milestones and social kudos as romantic or sexual relationships. I’ve had many female friends who were closer than lovers; certainly many female friendships that lasted a lot longer than relationships with men. There were many that felt deep and nourishing, many that felt exciting and Thirty, many that felt like home. In writing about friendship, I wanted to honour all of them.
I also wanted to peer into what happens when these fundamental relationships go wrong. If we are to give friendship its due as being equal to romantic or sexual love, we have to say it can be as heartbreaking, too. I was completely confused by my feelings about the break-up with my old Mancunian bestie. Sadly, I was too young and inexperienced to know what I needed and could ask for. Maybe that friendship could have been better if I’d known myself more and spoken up. Or maybe it ran its course. It wasn’t as if we had a showdown; more that we drifted and fizzled out. She didn’t like my choice of boyfriend, but we never talked properly about why. Then, one night, she left my flat after an awkward dinner and I knew that was it.
That evening, she’d slagged off my music taste and the book I was reading – her contempt was tangible. I’d floundered like a desperado, aware of becoming even more unappealing in the process. The next day, I was bereft. What was I supposed to do? Ask her if she wanted to meet for a painful coffee? Had we broken up? Could you even break up from a friend? I had no protocol to deal with it. In the years since that friendship ended, I have forged many new ones. I’m better at knowing my own boundaries and I have tricky conversations with friends as and when they’re needed. I’ve had to look at and mend two really close friendships because they weren’t working any more. It was so hard, but felt important and mature. Most friendships – even the most solid ones – have their phases and undulations.
What I haven’t yet done, and what isn’t part of our culture, is to sit down like ex-lovers and agree that we have changed as people and things need to end. ‘Hey, it’s not you, it’s us. I’ll love our love forever, but I don’t enjoy being around you right now.’ We are led to believe that friendships don’t require this. Since nothing physical changes – no one’s sex life comes to a close – the misapprehension is that nothing needs to be stated. But your day-to-day can be massively affected when a friendship fades. Could it be helpful to have a peace treaty? A grown-up agreement? (One that would let us be in the same room together in the future and it not be excruciating.)
As for that old friend, she’s like a ghost in my heart. We haven’t spoken since. I’ve chalked it up as one of my formative heartbreaks – something to really learn from. I didn’t know how to respect and value a friendship properly throughout its life, which I think is down to a culture that taught me friends would always be second to lovers. Wrong! That relationship also taught me the importance of having the self-confidence to call things when they’re over. As female friendship continues to be explored across popular culture (and hooray for that!), we might all find better ways to navigate the knottier parts of it, too.