Female friendship is the purest form of love

There’s profound intimacy in the simple act of being girls together.

One thing about me is that I stand absolutely no chance in the Valentine’s Day section of any store. Slap pink and red hearts on just about anything and I’m shamelessly forking over my money. I could probably single-handedly uphold the global economy if more things were heart shaped—I bought heart shaped ice trays recently. I’m not kidding. But I can’t help it! I love Valentine’s Day. I think it’s so beautifully human that we have a day dedicated to celebrating the love in our lives.

This Valentine’s Day, I found myself fresh out of my first long-term relationship, which has certainly impacted my feelings about the day, though not in the way I thought it would. Because I’m not in a romantic relationship anymore, I’ve been noticing love elsewhere, and nowhere have I found more of it than in my relationships with the women in my life.

Sometimes I joke that if a man won’t do something for me, the women in my life will, but it really does hold true—the women in my life have been an endless fountain of advice, support, loyalty, shoulders to cry on, and unconditional love. They’ve celebrated my successes and held me through my heartbreaks. In many ways, the women in my life have healed a heart that they didn’t break in the first place. 

First, I of course think of my mother. She has been my rock during this breakup (not to mention the rest of my life). I recall the way she held me while I cried, laid in my bed with me when I felt like I physically couldn’t get out of it, and then proved to me that I could the next day. Let’s go get a coffee. She taught me that my pain isn’t so heavy when I have someone else to help me carry it. 

Think of the immense love your mother had for you before she even knew you—such all-consuming love that she made the sole purpose of her body to grow yours. Think of how hard she has worked and everything she has given up to give you a better life than the one she had. Think of the way she raised you to be strong—You’re so smart. I’m so proud of you. Don’t listen to those girls, they’re just jealous of you. I’m sorry he said that, he doesn’t deserve you. I know this is difficult, but it’ll make you a stronger person. Think of the way she has taken care of you since before the day you were born, and then think of the ways that you can take care of her now. 

Think of the other women that have nurtured you, that have poured their love and care into you—grandmothers, aunts, teachers, your friends’ mothers. Are you not overwhelmed by love?

Then, I think of my friends, and how much of a saint I must have been in a past life to deserve such angels in this one. These girls, who were once strangers, have become the closest thing I will ever have to sisters. Being known and loved so much and so well by these women has changed the fabric of who I am, and it has been such a privilege to find a home in them. How beautiful it is to go through life surrounded by women who truly want the best for you—we don’t have to be ashamed to cry too much, or to laugh too loud, or to talk ceaselessly about something that happened weeks (or years) ago. Women show up for each other in ways that none of our various boyfriends ever could—and not by any fault of their own. There’s just such profound, almost spiritual intimacy in the simple act of being girls together—Oh, you forgot your eyeliner? That’s okay, you can borrow mine. That looks so good on you. Keep it. He really did that to you? God, what an idiot. You’re too pretty for him anyway. Of course I can cut your bangs for you. Of course I can help you with your homework. Of course I’ll go with you. Of course you can call me. I’m sorry you had a bad day. Want to come over and tell me about it? I’m getting a coffee, do you want one too? Yes, I know your order. What are you wearing tomorrow? Okay, I’ll wear a skirt too. No, I don’t think that’s too formal. We’ll look cute. Wait, let me take a picture of you. This lighting is amazing. See you tomorrow! I love you. Text me when you get home. There is so much weight in these small gestures.

Finally, I think of the women whose names I don’t remember—the ones I have met in the bathrooms of bars and in the hallways of my high school and at cafés and supermarkets and on the corners of Court Street. Lyra Wren’s “The Universal Language of Women” reads:

“A girl in the bar bathroom applies glitter to my eyes. I only met her a moment ago, but she shares her stars with the women around her until we all gleam. She says we are beautiful until we bleed confidence and that is the universal language of women.”

With each of these women that I’ve exchanged compliments with in passing, I am reminded of the infinite power of a woman that can make you feel so seen by somebody you will never encounter again.

I think of my mother, I think of my dear friends, and I think of these nameless women, and I am reminded of the unique light that only a woman can bring to this life. How lucky we are to carry the weight of womanhood together. How lucky we are to find such great love in the sheer act of existing. 

Thank you for reading You Get What You Need ♡