The ‘Best Friend’ Myth

I need to get something off my chest: the whole idea of a "best friend" is a scam. A childhood fairytale we were all sold, right next to Prince Charming and the idea that mortgage rates would be reasonable by the time we hit 30.

When we were kids, we were trained to find the one, the Monica to our Rachel, the Ant to our Dec, the one person who would be our ride-or-die, share our chips, and vow to hate the same people we did. And sure, that was cute when all we had to do was argue over who got the red gel pen in class. But as adults? Life is messy, people move away, and honestly, no one has the energy to be that available all the time.

Here’s the thing: different people bring different things into our lives. There’s the friend you text in a crisis, the one you call for a pep talk when you’ve humiliated yourself on a date (again), the one who sends you Instagram reels at 2am when she should be sleeping, and the one you see twice a year but it always feels like no time has passed.

Some of the best friendships don’t require daily maintenance. You don’t need to wake up and send them a "Good morning, bestie!" text like you’re in a long-term relationship. The love is there, whether you talk daily or disappear into your own worlds for months. And when you do finally catch up? It’s six hours, three cocktails, and a full analysis of every life decision you’ve made since the last time you spoke.

And let’s talk about those friendships that thrive purely on voice notes. The ones where you send a seven-minute rant about the most minor inconvenience (like a Deliveroo driver leaving your food at the wrong door), and they reply with an equally long monologue about their boss being the human embodiment of a migraine.

The idea of needing a singular, ultimate best friend? Exhausting. One person can’t be your emotional support system, your therapist, your personal hype squad, and your emergency contact (though, let’s be honest, some of us have definitely listed a friend because the alternative was our mum).

Friendship isn’t about possession, it’s about connection. You can have a soul mate in more than one person. Maybe your work wife knows your caffeine order better than your actual partner, but your childhood bestie is the only one who still remembers your tragic emo phase in 2009. Different friendships serve different parts of us, and that’s the best part.

And can we take a moment to appreciate the specialist friend? You know, the one you only go to for very specific things. The stylish jazz bar girlfriend (I like to think this is me) who thrives in a dimly lit room with a filthy martini in hand and her eyes scanning all the potential bachelors, the friend who gives killer dating advice but has the emotional availability of a teaspoon, or the one who’s always got a 10-step plan for any crisis. We love them all, just differently.

Look, we’ve all had that moment of guilt where we realise we haven’t texted someone back in, um, three months. But here’s a secret: real friends don’t guilt-trip you for living your life. The ones worth keeping understand that time passes, things get chaotic, and some weeks, the most you can manage is sending a meme and hoping it conveys your entire emotional state.

If you’ve ever thought, "Oh God, I should really message [insert name here] before they think I’ve died," congratulations, you are officially an adult. Life gets in the way. Responsibilities pile up. And sometimes, your brain is too fried to even think about small talk, let alone sustain a conversation beyond, "You alive?"

The best friendships are the ones that survive despite this. Where you can pick up exactly where you left off, no guilt, no passive-aggressive "Well, look who finally remembered me" nonsense. Just pure, effortless, unbothered connection.

So, let’s collectively retire the pressure of having one best friend and embrace the beautiful, chaotic mess of many. Because honestly? There’s no one person who can handle all of this energy 24/7.

And if there is, they deserve a medal, and possibly a nap. And a drink. Actually, make it two.