An Early Journey through Friendship
By: Samantha Williams
Tags: Growth, Friendship, Lessons Learned

You meet your first friend in kindergarten. She is in your class of 20 students, and for some reason — despite her long straight blonde hair and your short curly brown hair, her love for dance and your love for sports, her desire to wear dresses that look pretty when she twirls, and your desire to wear t-shirts two sizes too big — you find each other a fitting opposite to be perfectly fit friends. You arrive at her birthday party — a pink themed tea party — in your dad’s massive polo because it was the only pink you will wear. You don’t notice the differences, only that the tea tastes yummy, but the sandwiches could be bigger.

You teach your first friend to climb trees like baby monkeys and show pride in your scraped knees. They show how tough you are. “Battle scars” you call them. You excitedly participate as she teaches you to play pretend games with shapeshifting horses and wish-granting fairies. Oh, how you wish you had a wish-granting fairy after you chip your front tooth running into a pole playing a very intense game of tag. But you accept the popsicle your first friend convinces your teacher to give you both. You smash red bricks together to make dust you can turn onto paint, and you sneak into the school’s garden to steal lemongrass and eat it behind the trees, giggling. She is your best friend, and you imagine limitless days together.

You don’t notice the new school your parents put you in, but only you are without your first friend. So, make new friends. Twins. One is a dancer, much like your first friend, the other a soccer player, much like you. Their spunky and energetic personalities fill you with joy, and they guide you out of your very tightly fit shell. You do everything together. Carpool to soccer practice singing all the way there and fighting hunger all the way back. Play Just Dance until utter exhaustion in their comfy basement and then regroup on the trampoline to watch you attempt a front flip that looks more like a fish out of water. Choreograph the greatest talent show performance of all time and practice day and night until you get it right. “This has to be like muscle memory” you say as you all run through it… again. These are your best friends, and you imagine limitless days together.

You will soon realize not all friendships last; many are not meant to. Nonetheless, you learn in life. Go to middle school and understand that you hate drama. Go to middle school and experience the utterly embarrassing awkwardness of flirting with boys still 6 inches shorter than you. Go to middle school and discover people grow out of old versions of themselves. Fast. Learn that old friends no longer find similarities with someone who cares too much about P.E. and enjoys theater.

Continue your series of friendships in high school. Not the local high school with people you deemed fake or toxic, but a private school to play soccer, with — you guessed it — a new lot of fake and toxic people. Force yourself to get close to said people and find you’re all just searching for belonging. You’re excited, and you dive right into the high school experience. You meet new people; you meet new boys. You learn new lessons; you learn not to trust those boys.

Take time to lose your friends and find new ones. Realize the people that come into your life have a specific purpose and perfect timing. Find your best friends’ junior year. Meet your matching curly-haired, wacky best friend crying in the school bathroom and decide to help her through the struggle of losing her own friends. Thank the universe for its impeccable timing. Meet another girl that is just as competitive and weird as you. Trade pretend stories for real late- night adventures. Replace wish-granting fairies with dreamy-eyed boys. Climb fences instead of trees and sneak liquor instead of lemongrass, giggling, nonetheless. Ditch the football game and eat greasy food at a 24-hour diner talking about life and its completely comical ways of testing us. Talk about our struggles, our hopes, our aspirations. Go to the beach and skinny dip under the big white moon and feel the warm ocean not yet cooled off from a full summer season. Sit there and talk about love, sex, insecurities. Step back for a moment and realize you are happy, you are loved, you are limitless.

Life moves quickly, and years pass. You feel a sense of guilt because, for the first time you are the one distancing yourself from these friends you so desperately wanted and that took you so long to find. Realize that people grow out of old versions of themselves — fast — and you are growing into a new person ready to take on the world. You grow out of these friends that have other paths they lead that don’t match your frequency, and that’s ok. You will come to realize these friends are the ones that helped you grow along the way. Remind yourself that though time is limited, they made you feel limitless. Thank them, but don’t be afraid to keep moving beyond them.