This is what friendship looks like at 27
Friendship at 27 is a lot of texting, to be honest.
It’s texting to keep in touch with people who live across the country. It’s texting to survive a miserable workday. It’s texting to coordinate ever-more detailed schedules and to make ever-more detailed plans. Hangouts don’t just happen anymore, they are meticulously arranged. Gone are the days of spontaneous drives, of midnight taco runs. We have jobs. We have lives. We’re tired. (Oh, we’re tired!)
We get together and do things like “yoga classes” and “neighborhood walks” because it means we’re killing two birds with one stone. We see each other, but we multitask; we improve our slipping health, the health we didn’t care about before, which suddenly requires some extra care and attention.
Friendship at 27 is a lot of showers. Baby showers, bridal showers, all the showers. We’ve reached the time where we have to decide exactly how awkward it is to buy lingerie for someone we know. (Extremely awkward. Always.)
Friendship at 27 is not roommateship. No longer are we living with all our favorite people in one crowded place, eating peanut butter with a communal spoon. We live with one other person, maybe, or by ourselves, or with a significant other. We cherish this. We crave it, we love it.
But we miss the days when we all came back and licked peanut butter spoons.
Friendship at 27 is accepting that we see more of our convenience friends than our actual friends. It’s getting used to permanent significant others. It’s helping each other through the 10-year reunion panic. Should we go? Aren’t we in touch with everyone we like? Shouldn’t we have accomplished more in the last 10 years? 10 years! Surely we’ve screwed everything up!
Friendship at 27 is quieter and calmer, lesser and more.
We praise the heavens for social media for at least allowing us a semblance of keeping up with friends. Because our moms, they may have lost touch with their bridesmaids, but we never will.
We curse social media for making it easy to feel we’re keeping up with friends when we really aren’t. Because our moms, they sent handwritten letters to those bridesmaids, and we never will.
We sit down and type out emails and link appropriate Buzzfeed articles and do what we can to keep friendships going, to keep the people who knew us with braces in our lives. We set up large, complicated Skype dates that inevitably fail. We catch up with our hometown friends once a year, around Christmas, in the corner of a local diner. We accept this for what it is.
We realize how very different we are from our once BFFs.
Friendship at 27 is hard. Even with the greatest of friends it’s hard. People are changing and moving and growing up. We’re swinging back to our families where we once swung to our friends. We’re realizing people come and go. We’re realizing the ones love are the ones we need to cling to with a ferocity, or they, too, will slip away.
We’re also texting a lot. Because friendship at 27 is really just a lot of texting, when it comes right down to it.
Jillian Denning is a writer and blogger living in Malibu, CA. She adores nachos, worships Mariah Carey, and believes strongly in the power of purple lipstick. She keeps a framed picture of Princess Diana on her dresser. You can follow her blog here and tweets here.