This post was first published in Cosmopolitan Australia magazine.
Every now and then, a new word enters our collective vernacular. This year dictionaries have welcomed inaugural definitions for ‘selfie’, ‘space tourism’ and ‘babymoon’ into their pages. Seriously.
What attracts less focus are words that disappear from use. The ones which simply lose their buzz and go out of style, forced to wither and die a lonely death in definitional purgatory.
But one dictionary term whose demise remains disturbingly overdue is: the ‘Best Friend’. I honestly cannot think of any less-necessary label in the English language.
It’s the ‘forever’ bit I have a problem with.
The whole ‘picking just one above the rest’ part too.
Through my life I’ve had a lot of very close female friends who have moved in and out of my circle. But I’ve never had that One Single Mate to Beat All Other Mates. I’m the greedy type – can’t I have three or even four BFFs? Please?
Then recently, I was given a simple yet perfect piece of advice, which resolved my life long search for an actual bestie once and for all. It was this: Stop expecting one person in your life to provide for all your emotional needs. You have different people for different reasons and at different times. And that’s okay.
Kapowezzeeeefgrph. (That is the sound of my mind being blown).
I realised life isn’t an episode of Survivor where you rank everyone on an invisible ladder that exists only in your mind’s eye and each week you vote the bottom ranking gal off the island.
A dame doesn’t need a single bestie. She needs a bunch of them.