Friends

I used to be the one that pushed everyone away out of fear that I was too demanding or too toxic or “too much.” But I’m finally at a place in my life where I understand just how important it is to lean on your support system — and so I’m committed to not running away anymore.

You may have heard the term "bromance" and tried to wash your ears out with bleach (bad idea). Sadly, scientist types heard the word too.

Our friendship was over long before that night I hurt her feelings because she hurt mine. Our commonalities were evaporating, we didn’t see one another as often, and I’m fairly certain we didn’t like one another anymore. While growing up, we grew apart — but instead of seeing that natural division as a normal, common and positive part of adulthood, we grew scared and self-conscious and defensive. What does this mean about us, as women? Why can’t we continue to love one another? Are we bad friends? Are we bad people?

"So what happens when the split is acrimonious and your friends end up dumping you, too? Suddenly you’re treated as an outcast, and when you bump into them in the street, they pretend they haven’t seen you, even when you’re standing in the next line in Costco!"

Don’t say the following: “Maybe they’ll remember me!” “I bet they would love to get a message from me!” “Contacting the popular kids while we are in our 30s is a fantastic idea and doesn’t look desperate at all!”

As an only child, my father always told me, “You don’t have to be liked by everyone, and you don’t have to like them, too.” I guess I always sought a sense of approval from those around me growing up, and the desire to be ‘liked’ by my peers was vital.

Also worth considering: Beyonce on vacation, Prince George, your mom in the '70s.

It's common knowledge that weddings are ridiculously, outrageously, soul-crushingly expensive.