Slow Friendships

This post is dedicated to three friends I met in college. You all have inspired my love and trust in slow friendships.

I am no relationship expert, but I am intensely interested in human relations and have an observant edge. With that, here are some things I’ve witnessed in some special, slow-building friendships:

Slow friendships are made of stronger stuff. I am sure of it.

I love the way a friendship grows, especially those that feel special from the start, but you’re not sure why. You have to take the time to uncover its purpose. These friendships taste like honey and maple syrup mixed with warm spices all year round, no matter how often you talk or how far you are from one another.

Cory

Last week I met up with one of these friends for coffee and crafting. I met Cory for the first time about five years ago during my first year in college. We lived in the same building, she was on the fourth floor while I was on second. We greeted each other from time to time. I slowly picked up new facts about her that I kept tucked in my back pocket to use later for talking points. I knew she loved cooking, which I envied, and she liked to run, too.

When sophomore year rolled around, we were in dance classes together. I declared a dance minor, and she declared a dance major. It was clear we were both artistically and philosophically inclined, but somehow had always been missing each other ever so slightly. We didn’t really hang out with the same people, but I just knew she and I were meant to be friends. And if we weren’t then I just wanted to make it happen because this woman was fucking awesome.

It was around fall of our junior year (I think) that we started going on walks together. It was on those walks around town and in the woods where I believe I started to uncover what felt so important about nurturing a friendship with Cory. We talked about art, dance, sexuality, sex, periods, witchcraft, herbal medicine, mental health, photography, and poetry. I think that covers the basics. We kind of just dove in, seriously. In one of our first walk-conversations I told her that I used my period blood to water my plants, and she told me about a book she was reading to get in touch with her menstrual cycle and the moon phases. It was clear that any guardedness could be thrown out the window, and shamelessness was welcome.

 Mae

A couple weeks before seeing Cory, I grabbed lunch with another warm spice friend who was in town. I knew of Mae my first year of college through a mutual friend, but we didn’t start connecting until sophomore year when the two of us auditioned for the campus dance group. We both made it, and there we got to witness the Weird in each other. As it turns out, our respective Weirds were complimentary. At our rehearsals we would talk about our respective music groups, Mae played percussion and I sang. We also talked about our unshaven legs, politics, sex, relationships, anger, perfectionism, high standards, body image, religion, and purpose. Once again, I had another person in my life who thought and cared deeply about things that also mattered to me.

Mae and I were both on a trajectory to become physical therapists, but we took different paths. I studied biology while she studied math. We had our differences for sure, but I think our motivations were always similar. By the end of college, we were both planning on attending graduate school the fall after graduation, and while I ended up deferring, then deciding not to go back altogether, Mae went on and is now in her second year. I think something special about our friendship is the way we mirror the other person’s possibilities. Mae did the thing I sometimes wish I’d done, and I show her what she occasionally wonders if she could have done. We look at each other with admiration and honor the bravery it took each of us to make each of our respective decisions.

Anna

About a month and a half ago, I saw the last warm honey buddy I will write about here. Anna and I met in a writing class our first year of college. We bonded over sarcastic banter and side commentary (oops). Our sophomore year, we became roommates, and it stayed that way up until we graduated. We weren’t close when we started living together, but we respected each other and made room for each other to show up exactly as we were every damn day. We both struggled with mental health, dealt with some questionable relationship decisions, and had teeter-tottering faith. We were also on extremely uncomplimentary sleeping schedules, but we learned to work with each other. Anna found joy in listening to my strange, sleepy sounds and I learned to appreciate an afternoon rest and the coziness of bed after a long day.

Anna and I had different groups of friends, but somehow were able to show up honestly with each other in a way that was so refreshing. We observed each other and saw each other. All of each other. Even the ugly bits and particularly the stuff we were blind to in ourselves. I mean, if not that, what else is living with another person really for?

All of these friendships are anchors for me. I don’t know how many other people have this experience but it’s not always the people you spend the most time with that end up being the ones who show up most consistently. None of these people are individuals who I would have considered my best friends during college, but I sure as hell would consider them some of my closest friends in retrospect, and certainly right now. When I think about what close friendship means to me, I think of a handful of traits:

1.     Consistency

For me, consistent relationships involve checking in with each other whether it’s once a week, once a month, or once a year. I also believe consistency includes the showing up-ness for each other in small ways. Calling to ask for help or advice. Sharing random things that remind you of the other person. Listening when listening is needed. Offering solutions when asked.

Consistency says, “I’m here for you”.

2.     Respect

I feel like this one is so basic, yet it can be oh so difficult. Respect is essential. I think respect is the basic element of a relationship that honors and holds individuality, knowing that the other person can make their own decisions and form their own beliefs.

Respect says, “I believe you know what’s best for you”.

3.     Honesty

Honesty is the thread that holds people together coupled with respect. Respect without honesty might show up as passivity. Honesty without respect might appear as aggression. Honesty is for dignity and declaring what feels right or not. What seems reasonable or not. It’s as small as saying “I’d rather eat at home tonight” or as big as saying “that really hurt my feelings”.

Honesty says, “I am as I am right now”.

4.     Vulnerability

Vulnerability, like honesty, requires a certain openness. The difference to me is in vulnerability you open yourself to critique. It’s the layer beneath honesty. It’s not just saying your piece then moving on. Being vulnerable allows for possibility. For me vulnerability has been saying “I’m sorry”, admitting that I hurt someone’s feelings, and being curious about the small chance (haha) that I don’t always know what’s best.

Vulnerability says, “I know I could be wrong”.

5.     Boundaries

Without boundaries, it’s easy to over-identify with another person and forget that you are whole with or without them. I noticed that with the people who I thought were my best friends during college, I felt especially attached to our closeness. I think having similar interests is an essential glue for building connections, but I think honoring and celebrating the differences between us is just as important. Supporting each other’s separateness is what seems to make my most meaningful friendships last. It’s the un-attachment that I have to how these friendships “should” be that actually allows them to be so fulfilling.

Boundaries say, “I value that we’re not the same”.

Cheers to slow friendships and the sacred form of love they shine into life.