The more I attend my class on gender studies in the media, the more skeptical I am of perceptions of relationships. Running on a low amount of sleep, multiple cups of coffee, spinach artichoke dip from Late Night Kitchen and a stomach filled with regret, I wrote an essay about the perceptions of single people.
Single people are those who, in my readings, are described as one “without.” They are described as singular, and these articles focused on what single people do not have as opposed to what they do. Single people are discarded and described as those who are going to die alone, those who have nothing to do on the weekends and those who have nobody to love them. I want to fight these stereotypes. Those who are not in romantic relationships are not “without,” and they are not alone.
Romantic relationships are not always the answer, nor are they the best kind of relationships. There is no one form of relationship better than another. I am not without because I do not have a romantic relationship. I am surrounded by those who care about me and those who love me. I am surrounded by those who are always by my side.
The strongest relationships I have harbored are my friendships. The romantic relationships that I’ve had have come and gone, never lasting as long as my friendships. Sometimes, my friends know me better than I do. I have told them things I’ve been afraid to face myself. I have conversations about my fears, my plans, my dreams and the direction in which my life is headed with my closest friends.
The readings in my gender studies class suggest that I should feel incomplete without a romantic partner. They suggest I have no substantive relationships in my life. They suggest that I should feel alone.
A few weeks ago, I had what a children’s book would describe as a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. My friends heard that I was having a rough time, and although they couldn’t pick up my fallen quesadilla, make my delayed train come quicker or be with me on that train while I looked out the window and listened to Adele, they were there for me. I got multiple messages, Snapchats and pictures of sad Ben Affleck to help cheer me up.
The sheer amount of contact from my friends who were miles away meant so much to me. In a time when I was supposed to feel alone and isolated, I was surrounded by and reminded of the power of my friends. I have never felt more valued or surrounded by love than in those moments, and it reminded me how important friendships are.
With one phone call, I have a friend to motivate me to go to the gym with her. With one text, I have friends to motivate me to study with them. With one Facebook message, I can vent to my best friend studying abroad. We can talk about everything from Frank Sinatra to boys, from which movies to watch to which rap albums to listen to. I am surrounded by important friendships with strong people who inspire and challenge me. My friendships have been the longest and strongest relationships I’ve had.
This is not to say that those in romantic relationships are not capable of forming these types of relationships. This is not to say that platonic relationships are better than romantic relationships. My argument is that friendship is so easily overlooked and invalidated because of its lack of a romantic element.
I believe that friendship is one of the most important things a person can have. My friends have always been there for me, challenged me, made me a better person and supported me through everything.
I think there is some truth to having our best friends as our soul mates, as described by the women of “Sex and the City.” It may seem trite or contrived, but my friends are the ones that have always been by my side, there to listen or talk, to vent or help. My friends are my soul mates, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
