I’m realizing more and more that some of my favorite TV shows from my youth really screwed with my head when it came to setting healthy expectations of what friendships should look like.

TV shows like Dawson’s Creek and Saved by the Bell (and … well … Friends) all portrayed groups of tight-knit friends that did everything together. Every day. All the time.

These friend groups were always made up of boys and girls (the gender binary was strong in mainstream TV back then), and the friends would date each other round-robin style, break up with each other, get jealous of each other, and make everything generally messy… yet still be best of friends in the end.

Also, these TV friendships usually started young, junior high for most, and then lasted into their adult lives. The same set of friends forever and ever. No matter what.

I wanted in.

Nothing to see here, just some mid-20-year-olds playing high schoolers that all had sex with each other.

When I was very young — elementary and middle school age — I always had multiple groups of friends that I was a part of. I was a part of the Girl Scouts friend group. I was a part of the rec league basketball friend group. I was a part of the Sunday School friend group. I was a part of the accelerated math kids friend group.

I actually had a lot of friends. I got along with just about everyone at every school I attended, even the enigmatic popular kids. I was a friendly little girl, albeit a bit nerdy and quirky, and I thought for sure that one of my friend groups would last forever and we would all be each others’ bridesmaids and get pregnant at the same time.

Yeah, that didn’t happen.

I never ended up having a group of friends that always hung out every Friday and Saturday night together How I Met Your Mother style. I didn’t even have that one best friend who I could always count on to talk to when I needed someone Clarissa Explains It All style (what wouldn’t I have done to have a cute boy climb a ladder to my window to the sound of his own theme music, #swoon). I usually spent the weekends watching TV by myself or playing with whichever neighborhood friends were around (shoutout to the Elmwood crew).

And any friends I did have, I didn’t know how to hold on to them for very long. The friends I had in 2nd grade were drastically different from the friends I had in 5th grade, which were drastically different from the friends I had in 8th grade, which — you guessed it — were drastically different from the friends I had in high school.

And, no surprise here, there are very few friends that I had in elementary school, middle school, and high school that I keep in contact with today as an adult. (If you’re one of them — hiii! Please don’t hate me. 🙏)

In high school, I remember the crushing realization that some of my friends would hang out with each other without me — chatting in homeroom on Monday morning about how the DQ was so crowded on Friday night or reminiscing during basketball practice about how there was a fire at Old Orchard mall on Saturday night when they were at the Cheesecake Factory together. I wasn’t ever sure if it was because I gave off goody-two-shoes/narc vibes (totally possible), or if it was because I wasn’t actually lovable. 💔

Because of all of this — specifically the lack of one, solid, long-lasting friend group — I thought something was wrong with me. I began to believe that I wasn’t meant to have real friends. That I wasn’t really friend material. That I wasn’t likable, too weird, too quirky, too desperate perhaps.

Some of my friends groups — the neighborhood kids friend group (included my siblings) …

and the Girl Scout friend group (also known as the Ultimate Hanson Brothers Fan Club friend group).

Thankfully, college was different, in the sense, as I have many college-era friends still in my life. I care a lot about them, but I wouldn’t necessarily say that we’re super close (with the exception of a few, you know who you are 💜). I don’t go on girls trips with my college girlfriends like I see in the movies. Our husbands aren’t bffs or golf buddies (barf). We are in each other’s lives for big moments — weddings, babies, the occasional birthdays. And maybe sometimes we visit each other in person. But not often.

So that pesky thought creeps back in — am I bad at friendships?

As a post-grad school adult, this fear was solidified. I was a part of an extensive friend group when I first moved to Texas thanks to a very extroverted roommate who I love ever so dearly for pushing me to be more social. The group was made up of men and women (check ✔️) who hung out all the time (check ✔️) and also occasionally slept with each other (check! ✔️). Just like TV! I had hit the jackpot!

However, I quickly realized that social life in Austin in your 20s is centered around drinking. Wanna hike? Grab some beer. Wanna go tubing or hang out at the lake? Fill your water bottle up with vodka and Gatorade. Wanna stay in and watch movies? You better have some wine. I was able to keep up for a while, drinking multiple days a week, day-drinking to push pass hangovers, swearing off drinking every Sunday evening and then getting right back into the very next weekend.

I loved my friend group, but eventually I couldn’t maintain the lifestyle. I was interested in so many other things that I couldn’t do drunk or hungover, and I started dating my now-husband who doesn’t really drink at all. So I started to drift away from my friends. I moved out of the apartment I had with my super-social roommate, and I started RSVPing “no” to events and parties because I didn’t want to be the only one not drinking. Soon, the group got the hint and stopped inviting me altogether.

And that’s when I told myself I was officially a bad friend. I had had the quintessential tight-knit friend group of glorified 90s TV dramas, and I lost it. I had ruined it. I was the common thread in all my friendship failures.

Many years have passed since I lost my spot in the only TV-show friend group I’ve ever been a part of, and I’ve spent those years desperately trying to find a new one. Maybe a group from work? No, that can get complicated. Maybe a group based on a hobby I like? No, people that read are too introverted to hang out all the time, bless their hearts. Maybe a group from the neighborhood? No, they’ve already been friends for years and I’d have to put in too much effort to catch up.

I’ve made some great friends along the way, truly exceptional human beings who I would die for, but I usually hang out with them 1x1. Maybe a double date if they have a significant other. I love spending time with them, swapping secrets and fears and dreams, caring for them as best as I can. But there’s always been that little voice in the back of my head telling me I’m not worthy of friendships because I’m not part of a group of friends. That somehow having one-off friends doesn’t count.

I was making a detailed audit of the friendships that I currently have in my life as I crossed making friendship bracelets off of the list. Sitting on my couch, with a bunch of embroidery floss tied around my leg, making knots into colorful patterns… as if I were right back on my front porch as a 8-year-old, making friendship bracelets for myself because I didn’t have anyone else to give them to. 😭

And I realized something. A lot of things, in fact!

(Self-reflection epiphanies really are my jam, y’all.)

▶ TV show friend groups are change-averse.

I don’t want a 90s TV dramedy friend group. They are highly overrated. They are stuck in the past, have a hard time branching out because they’ve become too comfortable and complacent, and rarely leave their home towns for risky yet exciting adventures. They don’t really change all that much as time passes. In fact, they fear change. Change could break up the group.

But I *love* change. I love moving across the country for a new job (or to chase a dream lifestyle). I love trying new hobbies and dumping old ones in the bin. I love trying on different versions of myself to see which ones stick. I love evolving as an emotional human being with hopes of self-actualization.

All of those things are scary, no doubt about that, but I’d rather take risks and adapt instead of staying in the same place and feel stuck and stagnant.

▶ I am super gifted at connecting with people 1x1.

And then I realized something else. I have friends *all over the world.* I am a master at connecting with people 1x1— finding a common thread that binds us to each other, no matter how dainty or faint the connection might be. I’ve been worrying about leaving my friends behind in Texas, but then realized that I have an awesome community in California already waiting for me. (Hi California people! Can’t wait to hang out again! ☀️)

I am able to connect with people so easy because I value vulnerability and authenticity. I’m always my real self with people, and fess up when I’m not. Yes, sometimes I overshare or say something pervy (because I’m still an 8-year-old girl who really likes butts) and want to put my foot in my mouth. But I’d like to think I’m pretty endearing and honest and open and genuine, and people seem to really like that about me.

▶ Introverts and giant friend groups don’t mix.

Just like tequila and good decisions, I’m realizing that introverts and big friend groups just might not go well together. The inherent extroversion that comes with spending time with other people all the time… ughh, no thank you! I get overwhelmed after 2 hours at dinner with 1 other person. The idea of spending every day with other people actually makes my soul cower in the corner. My introversion runs deep, and I need ample me-time before I can interact with other for prolonged periods of time (I’m talking like a 10:1 ratio minimum, maybe even 100:1 after Covid).

I’ve been trying to be something that I’m not in search for an ideal, but that’s not very authentic of me, now is it? I need to lean into my 1x1 relationships, the friendships that can be had on someone’s home couch instead a sticky night club couch. I thrive on quality, not quantity.

▶ There’s nothing wrong with me.

It’s okay to be a homebody. It’s okay that my husband is my best friend. It’s okay that my inner circle of friends includes one other person (lookin’ at you, Patty G). It’s okay to be me. And it’s okay to change if I want to change.

When it comes down to it, I know that if anyone in my life, even a fringe acquaintance, asked me for help, I would be at their side in a heartbeat. I might not reach out proactively every weekend, or even every month. I might not have house parties or dinner parties or even parties for 2. But I would hop on a plane to anywhere in the world if they said they needed me. And honestly, I think a lot of my friends would probably do the same for me.

So yes, I made friendship bracelets for myself. Yes, they say “hotty” and “ham” on them because I’m a goofball and there weren’t enough beads to spell “better alone.” But, I also taught a friend of mine how to braid and make her own bracelet. I even got my husband to wear one that’s pink and purple. And I’ve gotten tons of compliments on my bracelets from my current hot-yoga friend group, and that makes me feel pretty good.

If you’d like me to make you a friendship bracelet, please let me know. Otherwise, I’m just going to keep making them for myself because honestly, if you can’t be your own best friend, then what’s the point?

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