At 10 years old, I swore that I would never have a best friend. It was a rule that I laid down for myself after being caught in the middle of one too many squabbles between the girls in my class. The politics of the playground were befuddling to me. I’d heard of stolen best friends too many times to count and I was tired of being forced to pick sides in some strange war of friendship I didn’t ask to be a part of.
It was so much simpler, I thought, if I could befriend everyone without the drama that came with that troublesome label. If I had to pinpoint, now, the precise moment in my life when I realised how complicated friendship could be, it would be this.
My understanding of friendships—how to navigate, maintain and nurture them—served me all the way until I hit my 20s. Then, I entered the workforce and realised the inevitable. Without school as a common ground to bring us together, my friends and I started drifting apart.
Not for a lack of trying, of course. But the fact was that everyone was at different stages in their lives. My friends had spread themselves all across the globe, but even among those who remained in Singapore, some were still living it up like it was the good old partying days of university, while others were getting ready to settle down and start families. Some preferred to spend any free time they had with their new partners, while others barely had any free time at all with how much they were working. Meet-ups had to be planned months in advance, and even when they did happen, shared interests and conversation topics started to dwindle.
For a while, it seemed easier to accept that going our separate ways was part and parcel of adulthood. There would still be the occasional chain of ‘happy birthday’ messages in the group chat, and even the rare gathering every one or two years, but for the most part, we moved on with our lives, our paths only occasionally crossing. I mourned it for a while before I started to feel a forced nonchalance. Better to not let it affect me than to acknowledge that I seemed to be losing the people I once called my closest friends. Still, I wondered if there was more I could have done to protect these relationships from the test of time and preserve them the way they were.
A lot has been said online about what intentional friendships look like in this day and age. There are users on Instagram who recommend keeping a calendar of events in your friends’ lives—from a big presentation they might have at work to a movie they have mentioned in passing about being excited to watch—so you remember to ask after them. I’ve seen TikToks cautioning against meeting friends only to catch up on each other’s lives because that way, you’re not making any new memories with each other. All of which boils down to the fact that it takes not just effort, but actions, to build and maintain a friendship.
But equally as important, I’ve realised, is the acceptance that friendships will inevitably change. Effort can take you a long way, but as the years pass and everyone comes into their own, a big part of any relationship is simply the willingness to explore what this new dynamic can become and nurture it for what it is instead of what it used to be. Sometimes, that means loosening your hold and giving yourselves the time and space to grow separately. Genuine connection cannot be forced. All you can do is continue to show up when it matters, trust that your friend will do the same for you and hope that you will find each other again when the dust settles.
Recently, I met up with a group of friends from my schooldays for a movie and karaoke. I hadn’t seen most of them in a long while. After years of struggling to coordinate schedules and stumbling through mismatched topics of conversation, it felt astonishingly easy and comfortable to come together this time. We’re completely different people now compared to when we first met, but for a good few hours, it felt like no time had passed. And while I don’t think we’ll ever be as close as we once were, they are still some of my favourite people to be around with—and perhaps, that’s enough.
Order your copy of the October ‘Kinship’ issue of Vogue Singapore online or pick it up on newsstands now.
