What About Your Friends?

In second grade, TLC asked a very important question: “What About Your Friends?” And listen—I took that to heart. At age 8, I was like, Yeah, Lisa ‘Left Eye’ Lopes… what about ‘em?! What I didn’t realize is that this question would become the recurring pop-up ad of my emotional life. Unskippable. Relentless. And oddly specific.

Here’s the truth: I’ve spent most of my adult years feeling like I missed a class on how to do long-term, emotionally mature female friendships. You know, the one where people learn to communicate, show up consistently, and not just ghost because Mercury’s in retrograde and their “nervous system said no.”

Me? I show up like a golden retriever on espresso. I’m a ride-or-die friend by default. I bring candy and family trauma jokes. I remember your weird aunt’s birthday and your high school boyfriend’s name. I basically love-bomb my way into your life like we’re starting a sitcom together. It’s not “nice to meet you”—it’s "Should we get matching tattoos or start a business?"

What I now realize is that I’m not just showing up for them—I’m trying to create the kind of loyalty and safety I wish someone would offer me. I show up with my whole heart, plus snacks and an open YouTubeTV account. And then I’m surprised—shocked, even!—when they start pulling away because… we never actually built anything. I built it. Alone. In my head. With string lights, Stanley cups and Pinterest projects.

Eventually, the sparkle wears off, the late-night voice notes stop, and I’m left standing in the ruins of another intense girlmance wondering, Was it me? Was it them? Did I miss a group chat again?

Female friendship is weirdly sacred, wildly fragile, and often too full of unspoken expectations. It’s like trying to assemble IKEA furniture without instructions—someone’s gonna cry, someone’s gonna quit, and one of you is holding a tiny wrench for no reason.

But here’s what I’m learning (slowly, like a toddler with a sippy cup full of boundaries): fast doesn’t mean real, intense doesn’t mean safe, and showing up can’t replace loyalty. I deserve friendships where I don’t have to earn my place with over-functioning and excellent meme curation. I deserve someone who has my back the way that I have theirs.

Still love you, TLC. But next time, maybe let’s follow it up with “What About Your Boundaries?”