friendship

The dirty little secret no one talks about...

 

Despite the romanticized myth of BFF, the hard truth is that most friendships don't last forever. In fact, research suggests that when it comes to friendships, there's a phenomenon somewhat akin to the seven-year itch; half of our friendships change over that time period.

 

Just like other life-affirming relationships that we treasure---relationships with lovers, husbands, siblings, children, and pets---our closest friendships are imperfect. Friendships are fraught with disappointments and misunderstandings---resulting in some of the highest highs and the lowest lows of our emotional lives.

 

Remember Anne of Green Gables, the lonely orphan who never had a bosom buddy until she met her neighbor, Diana? Anne instantly realized she had found a soulmate in Diana. But as Anne grew up and her world expanded, the foundation of her once perfect friendship with Diana collapsed, paving the way for the next phase in her life. Given all the transitions that that take place in the lives of women (moving, mating, mothering and managing careers, just to name a few), it's not surprising that friendships fray. Anne's story is universal; as people grow and change, their paths diverge. Friends drift apart and even kindred spirits may find themselves circling in different orbits.

 

The sense of trust, intimacy, energy and connection we feel with a best friend is absolutely exhilarating, but when that friendship begins to erode or drift away, the sense of unease, discomfort, or loss is palpable. So what can you do to mend a broken friendship? Here are some tips for getting over the inevitable bumps:

 

1) Communicate

There's a wall of silence between you. She isn't answering your text messages or voicemails, and is ignoring your Facebook comments. You haven't seen each other for a week and you used to talk every day. What do you do? Summon up the courage to start a dialogue. If there's any hope of mending the friendship, you need to find out what's wrong and resolve it. Sending an email or snail mail (note or card) to your friend, telling her you miss her and want to talk, gives her a chance to respond without being caught off-guard.

 

2) Apologize, if you should

If you know it was you who said or did something wrong-or who didn't do or say something you should have, own up to the mistake. Apologize sooner rather than later because time has a way of making little problems fester. Of course, if you have a recurrent case of foot-in-the-mouth syndrome, this isn't going to work.

 

3) Forgive, if you can

Conversely, if you were the one who was wronged and the friendship is important to you, consciously decide to forgive your friend in order to save the friendship. Try to think about what happened from her perspective and accept her apology. If her behavior is consistently ambivalent and unpredictable, forgiveness may not be the right fix.

 

4) Take a break

You've approached your friend to sort out the problem and you've been ignored or rebuffed. Perhaps your friend needs more time to get over her anger and disappointment. Propose that you NOT see each other for two weeks or a month. Maybe you need time apart (what I call a friendship sabbatical) to realize how much you mean to each other. On the other hand, you both may breathe a sigh of relief during the trial separation.

 

5) Downgrade

Maybe your expectations of each other are a mismatch at this time. Perhaps, you need to establish boundaries: Tell her you need more space for yourself and more time with others. Maybe your relationship is based primarily on shared history and your lives have grown too disparate to remain besties. Gradually downgrade to a casual, once-in-a-while friendship. Make the change with grace and respect, leaving the door open for reconnecting in a different way at a different time.

 

Admittedly, fixing a broken friendship is never easy or simple because the rules of friendships aren't clear. Compounding the problem, women are often embarrassed or ashamed to talk about friendship problems. If they speak to men, they're likely to be accused of catfighting. If they speak to other women, opening up about another friend may be seen as a betrayal. As a result, friendship problems often remain the dirty little secret that nobody talks about---except on The Friendship Blog.com.

 

This post, by me, is the third in a weeklong series of posts by the bloggers involved in The Friendship Circle as part of The Month of Friendship. The blogs include: Girlfriendology, GirlfriendCelebrations, GirlfriendCircles, MWFSeekingBFF, and TheFriendshipBlog.

 

 

 

 

 

By Jen Singer

I remember sitting on chairs in my driveway that frightening Tuesday afternoon, watching our kids play while my friend Lynn and I listened to the radio for the latest news on the World Trade Center terrorist attacks. Lynn was waiting to hear what had happened to her cousin, a Staten Island firefighter who was among the first to respond to the scene that morning. I was wondering what to tell my children. The world, it seemed, was falling apart.

 

Lynn and I didn't know what else to do. We couldn't - wouldn't - watch the news. Not in front of our kids, who were all preschoolers at the time. So we did what we often did on warm, sunny afternoons: We had a playdate.

 

Our sons - between us, four of them- oblivious to what was happening just 30 miles from my house, tooled around the driveway on tricycles and ride-on toys, stopping now and then for snacks and bathroom breaks. Lynn and I opened juice boxes, adjusted bike helmets and kissed boo-boos, occasionally turning up the radio for a news update. We noticed that there were no airplanes in the sky.

 

Later, we found out that her cousin had died, one of some 350 firefighters to lose their lives in the Twin Towers attacks. And then we heard that one of our neighbors, too, had died, leaving behind a wife and three children. A few mornings after 9-11, Lynn and I huddled together at church at a mass honoring the victims, while our youngest sons sat in our laps, unusually still. We were both crying.

 

Since then, Lynn has had two more kids, and our boys have found different interests and different friends. I see her car pass by my house on her way to hockey practice, and she sees me when I'm coming home from soccer games. Now and then, we find ourselves at a barbeque or Back-to-School night, where we take a moment to catch up on things. Mostly though, we just wave as we pass by.

 

We used to talk to each other every day, mainly to set up carpools and arrange playdates, but also to talk about our fears, our families and our futures. But we simply don't talk all that much anymore. We live right down the street from each other, but our lives have moved farther apart.

 

And while that could, perhaps should make me feel wistful for the way our friendship used to be, it doesn't. We were close when we needed it most, when our lives ran parallel, when we needed someone to pick up the kids after a birthday party or preschool.

We're still close when we need it, like when her father passed away suddenly and when I had cancer. Lynn arrived one day the summer I was in chemotherapy with a tray full of delicious food and yellow flowers in a little vase. And for a moment, it was 9-11 again; we were there for each other.

 

Perhaps not all friendships are meant to endure at the same intensity, or at all. Kids seem to know this. My sons' friends often come and go, and yet none of them seem to care about it. "He's not really my friend anymore," my son told me last week when I suggested a playdate. And he was right. What's more, he was okay with it.

 

I prefer to think of my relationship with Lynn not as a friendship lost, but as a fond reminder of our days as young mothers. When I wave to Lynn, I'm indeed waving to a friend, but I'm also saying hello to how we used to be, to how we were there for each other when the world was falling apart.

 

 

Jen Singer is the editor-in-chief of MommaSaid.net and the author of the Stop Second-Guessing Yourself guides to parenting. Thanks, Jen, for sharing your warm and wise post---it felt as cuddly as a visit from a friend!

QUESTION

Dear Friendship Doctor,

I've been drifting apart from two friends over the past few years. In the first instance, I felt abandoned after working hard to maintain a long-distance friendship. When I finally confronted her a year ago, she swore I was still her best friend. I plunged back into correspondence and calls but she didn't reciprocate.

 

In the other instance, I call every month or two, and visit once or twice a year, a level of commitment that feels comfortable for me. But she imagines me her best friend, and talks about seeing me more often (monthly?) and phoning me more often. Yet, she hasn't scheduled more visits, and we remain more acquaintances than friends, which is fine by me.

 

In both cases, I've come to recognize that we've changed as people, and don't share the same interests, priorities or outlooks on life. If we met for the first time now, as adults, we might not become fast friends at all. At the same time, I value the ongoing connection to my past - so I don't want to drop them altogether.

 

So my question is: What are the right words to use to signal that a friendship has changed? I've known both women longer than my husband and certainly longer than many romantic relationships, but those relationships had more definite closure or clarity. Isn't it healthy to talk things out?

 

This question has become more urgent because both friends will soon celebrate birthdays. In the case of friend #1, our last contact was an unanswered email from me to her more than six months ago. I plan to send her a gift and a note, wish her well, and let her know I'm still here and look forward to a phase of life when our friendship might be closer again. Will the note seem like a fresh accusation or complaint against her?

 

The case of friend #2 is more complicated. We're both celebrating milestone birthdays this year (and it isn't age 21) so we're taking a trip together. I travel often so an overnight trip without my husband is no big deal. For her, it's the first time she'll "cut loose" in a decade or more. While she is ecstatically excited, I'm feeling anxious that we're not as compatible now as we once were. I certainly want to go but I plan to be myself, which means enjoying a quiet glass of wine after dinner rather than hitting a nightclub. How can I stay true to myself without wounding her and fatally damaging the friendship, and how can we both emerge from this trip with realistic expectations of our friendship?

 

In both cases, it's a question of how to acknowledge change. The prospect of a written or spoken declaration seems to give the situation more finality than I want, but to fail to acknowledge reality seems dishonest. Suggestions?

 

ANSWER:

Dear Chelsea,

Moving is high on the list of stressors. Understandably, it's tough to move away from close friends after your lives have become intertwined. Sometimes we forget that moving can be just as onerous for the friends who are left behind.

 

While you hope you'll be best friends forever, the reality is that distance matters. Even when two friends are tied together emotionally at the hip, it is simply less convenient to be friends from afar. Distance can compromise even the best of relationships.

 

In the case of Friend #1, your friend was probably being honest when she said she still feels close. Yet, the friendship was transformed by the move and may never be the same. When you "confronted" her, you acknowledged that the relationship had changed. (I don't like the term "confront" because it sounds accusatory and these are really no-fault changes).

 

Since you value the friendship the way it is, especially the shared memories, and you want to remain friends, it's fine to send her a birthday gift. But do not send a gift in the hope that it will draw you closer together!

 

In the case of Friend # 2, she's realized it's logistically difficult (in terms of time, money, and commitments) to schedule frequent visits. After all, she's immersed in a new life, in a new place, with new people. Yet, you both seem to care enough about the relationship to have planned this girlfriends' getaway to celebrate your friendship.

 

Before you pack your bags, talk about your plans and expectations for the trip so you're both on the same page to help avoid any landmines or letdowns while you are there. If the trip works out well, it will offer an opportunity to talk more intimately about your friendship expectations, face-to-face, and perhaps to plan a ritual for future birthdays.

 

Yes, it's always murky to try to define the beginning or end of a friendship---or to even understand the transitions in the middle. It's easier with marriages and unions where there are legal obligations and divorce decrees. When it comes to friendships, changes in life circumstances often require us to renegotiate terms. There is no "right" way to do this. It can be implicit or explicit--- "right" depends on the people, the situation, and how they feel.

 

It's hard to lose two close friends to moves and not feel abandoned but guard against feeling hurt and defensive. You didn't ask---but you probably need to check your inventory of nearby friends to make sure you have enough of those too.

Hope this helps.

Best,
Irene

 

Here are a few prior posts on The Friendship Blog on the topic of moves and their impact on friendships:

The sadness of moving and leaving a BFF behind

Hard to say goodbye: Ending a 20-year friendship

A friend's unexpected move

 

What strategies have you used to stay close with friends who iive far away?

 

Here are some simple tips to nip a new friendship in the bud or to sabotage an existing one:

 

1) Do it her way

Abrogate all responsibility for the friendship to your friend. Let her do all the planning---including where, when and what. When you do get together, don't initiate any conversation, or show interest or enthusiasm. Respond minimally, using as few words as possible, and only in response to direct questions.

2) Be humorless

Treat everything seriously. Contain any outward appearances of laughter or smiles when your friend says something funny.

3) Act entirely predictably

Never try anything new. Demand that you always do exactly the same things, in exactly the same ways, in exactly the same places. Never mix it up or expand your twosome. Why? You always did it that way.

4) Play the same tapes over and over

Repeat stories you've told before in exquisite detail. Avoid eye contact to be sure you aren't reminded that you did or interrupted. If yawning sets in, ignore it. If she tries to speak or ask a question, interrupt her.

5) Stay focused---on you

Talk only about yourself, what you have, and what you've done. Ask no questions and show no interest in your friend or in the larger world around you. Avoid real interaction by telling long-winded stories.

6) Skim the surface

Be sure all conversation remains impersonal and unimportant. Don't express feelings or discuss anything remotely meaningful. Focus only on the past; never the present.

7) Overstay your welcome

Ignore any signs of boredom. If you're at her house, stay as late as you can. If you're in a public place, stay until the owner or manager looks at you funny or seems headed to the door with a big ring of keys.

Any other ways you can positively ID a boring friend?

 

 

If you're frustrated because your friend is the one who is boring, take a look at two related posts on The Friendship Blog:

5 Tips for Handling a Friend Who Talks Incessantly

A Friendship Stuck in Dullsville

 

Deirdre Madden's most recent novel, Molly Fox's Birthday (Picador, 2010), is a beautifully written story that aptly conveys the complexity of a woman's emotional bonds with her family and friends. The story is focused on a single day in the life of an unnamed narrator, a playright who is staying over at the Dublin home of her closest friend of 20 years, an actress named Molly Fox. The narrator is trying to work on her latest play, but keeps getting distracted and winds up doing far more reminiscing and thinking than writing.

 

I was honored to conduct this interview via email with Deirdre, an acclaimed Irish novelist, to have her respond to some questions about the book, about writing, and about her own friendships. Molly Fox's Birthday was a nominee for the prestigious Orange Prize for Fiction.

 

Irene:
Why did you choose to tell your story within the confines of a single day in the life of the main character?

Deirdre:
A book that was very much in my mind when I was writing Molly Fox's Birthday was Virginia Woolf's Mrs. Dalloway. I liked the balance between the past and the present, and it seemed like a good model, a good way to arrange the material. My writing tends to be quite introspective and is concerned with memory rather than being active and narrative-driven. Setting the novel over a single day allowed for these elements to find a suitable balance.

 

Irene:
Why did you leave the main character unnamed?

Deirdre:
I liked the idea of knowing a great deal about a character - pretty much her whole life story - and yet not knowing her name. Usually it's the other way round: when you present or describe someone, the first thing you say is ‘This is...' and you name her. So it was a way of holding something back, of signalling a bit of distance between the reader and the narrator. On the same subject, when writing a novel, often you know that you've got to grips with a character when you've got a name for them that you know really suits.

 

Irene:
Is the narrator's flow of thoughts, procrastination, and writer's block something you've experienced first-hand?

Deirdre:
When you're writing a novel there are times, particularly at the start of the project, when, I find, you need to be quite passive and vague. You need to be receptive, to day-dream a bit, to follow stray thoughts that might or might not lead somewhere and become useful. The trick is to know when to move on from that phase to a more focused and active mindset. If you don't get it right, you do end up wasting time and procrastinating, stuck on something that's going nowhere. I suspect that sooner or later most writers go through something similar to the narrator's creative problems in Molly Fox's Birthday. You just keep going and you get through it.

 

Irene:
Do you have many long-term friendships of your own and how have they weathered the years? Do you believe in such a thing as "friends for life?"

Deirdre:
Yes, I have quite a few long term friends, some of them very long term indeed! Everyone changes as the years pass, but in a true friendship there's something at the heart of it that either evolves with the changes, or else over-rides them so that they don't matter. Circumstances can change but the thing that drew you to that person in the first place can stay constant. But like any important relationship, you can't take a friendship for granted or neglect it. It merits attention and respect.

 

Irene:
Why did you characterize Molly as a friend-poacher? What are your thoughts about friend-poaching (taking someone else's friend and making them your own)?

Deirdre:
Although she is vulnerable in many ways, Molly Fox has a much stronger personality than her friend, the playwright who narrates the novel, and has a stronger will. What one person sees as friend-poaching another will see simply as mutual friendship. Much depends upon the nature of the friendship that is being encroached upon: often the person about to become the wounded party won't have fully understood or admitted to the real nature of a friendship until they feel it to be under threat. That's certainly the case in the novel.

 

Irene:
Do family relationships, in any sense, predetermine our friendships?

Deirdre:
I'm very interested in relationships within families, most particularly siblings where one person is an artist - a painter, a writer or an actor - and how that impinges upon their brothers and sisters. Family and friends aren't, of course, mutually exclusive, and I believe people who are happy and at ease in their families are more likely to be relaxed about making connections and friendships outside the family. I suppose most of us take some kind of lead from our parents on how we conduct friendships, without our even being conscious of it. Molly Fox's Birthday is about family as well as about friendship.

 

Friendship by the Book is an occasional series of posts on The Friendship Blog about books that offer friendship lessons. 

 

 

*****BOOK GIVEAWAY

To be eligible for a free copy of Molly Fox's Birthday, post a comment about friendship, writing, or friend poaching here. Please include your email address so I can contact you if you are the winner. (If you don't want to post your email address here, you can post the comment and send your email address to me at irene@thefriendshipblog.com/)

Winners will be selected at random from all entries received by 11:59 PM on Sunday, August 15, 2010. U.S. shipping addresses only, please. Good luck, girlfriends!

 

QUESTION

Dear Dr. Levine,

My dearest best friend of 35 years died in March. She had Alzheimer's disease, so it had been several years since I was able to have a conversation with her, but I could still visit and see her. Her death has devastated me.

 

Before she became ill, we spoke almost every day, and often met for a cup of coffee, lunch, shopping, visiting a museum, or seeing a show, etc. She wrote a book that is carried by many museums, and we used to get a kick out of seeing it in their bookshops. We lived only 15 minutes apart. Our husbands even liked each other.

 

We shared so many things: a love of art, literature, humor, clothes, gossip, and much more. In all those years, we never had a fight---maybe a slight disagreement, but never a fight. I now feel bereft and totally alone, even though I am happily married and have other friends. Of those I have, no one can come near to replacing her. My husband understands my loss, but can't fill that empty space.

 

I have kind of resigned myself to knowing that I will never have a friendship again with that kind of width and depth. It's not a matter of not having other friends. I just have little desire to be with them. When my best friend was alive, I didn't mind spending some time with other friends also, but now, I have little desire to. When I do, it feels like I'm just "making do", and I feel terrible for even thinking that. How does one readjust from this kind of loss? Or, maybe you just don't.

Sincerely,
Lindsay

 

ANSWER

Dear Lindsay.

It sounds like you found and lost a kindred spirit in your friend. Given all the experiences and emotions you shared, there must be constant reminders of the friendship---tinged with even greater sadness because you watched your friend slowly deteriorate.

 

Perhaps, you need to allow yourself a fallow period before you can reach out to other friends. When you do feel like being with other women (which you will), resist the temptation to compare other friendships to this one.

 

Remember that each friendship is unique and this one-of-a-kind friendship has helped you become the person---and the friend---you are today. You are fortunate that you have savored what few others have in a lifetime. More pleasant memories will surface when the sadness recedes with time.

 

One other thought to consider: If your sadness isn't confined to your friendships and you've lost interest in things that were once pleasurable, you may be feeling depressed. Sometimes depression manifests itself as a sense of hopelessness; difficulties concentrating; or changes in sleep patterns, appetite, or energy levels. (Click here to see more about the signs and symptoms of depression). If this is the case, talking to a mental health professional might help you get over the hump.

 

Recovering from the death or a loved one is never easy. In this case, the difficulty may be compounded because few others can understand the closeness of your friendship and the pain of your loss.

My thoughts are with you.

Warmest regards,
Irene

Chelsea Clinton has 3320 friends. Yes, I checked. If you go to Chelsea's Facebook Page and try to friend her, as I did today, you'll get a message that she already has too many friend requests---so the virtual spigot of undocumented friends has been turned off. Given her popularity and celebrity, I suspect that most of those who have already friended her are simply gawkers. But doesn't it strike you as odd that there's been more buzz about the gown, the gluten-free cake, the port-a-potties, and the celebrity guests than about the true friends who will be at the Wedding on the Hudson this Saturday night?

 

Given my fascination with the topic of friendship, I've been wondering about the friends Chelsea and Marc have invited to their party and the process for making those decisions. There was early speculation that Oprah and Barbra (neither of whom need second names on their invitations) were invited. President Obama told the ladies of The View, "I'm not going. You don't want two Presidents at a wedding," suggesting that he didn't want to deflect any attention away from the bride and groom.

 

I have to admire President Clinton and Secretary of State Clinton who are reported to have said that this once-in-a-lifetime day belongs to the bride and groom---and not to them. So I've been thinking about the real Friends of the Bride (FOBs)---not the friends of Hill and Bill or of the in-laws; real friends, not Facebook ones.

 

Just as it is for any other bride, whittling down the guest list is one of the toughest tasks in planning a wedding. Chelsea never asked my advice but had she, I would have suggested that she think about the following when deciding which friends should make the cut:

 

1) Stick with your nearest and dearest

On your wedding day, you want to be surrounded by people who love and care about you, people who will be embracing your joy and happiness. Who are the friends who have been most important in your life? To whom do you feel closest? Who has helped define the woman you have become? Who do you expect will still be at your side twenty years from now? Who could you call at 3AM if you needed to?

 

2) Develop your own "no-fly list"

Delete the names of any friend who would be likely to embarrass you, dress inappropriately, drink too much, do drugs in the ladies room, or in any way detract from your party.

 

3) Steer clear of frenemies

Sometimes we realize that a relationship is filled with ambivalence. Your friend may be wonderful to talk to but she consistently says things to undermine you or make you uncomfortable. Is there someone who might be smiling while you're saying, "I do," while simultaneously sending out tweets under the table focusing on HER experience. If you're feeling very tentative or unsure about inviting someone, your heart is telling you that there's something wrong.

 

4) Think about the future

You have probably picked up many friends and acquaintances along the way to this day. They may be people with whom you've worked or campaigned for your mom; neighbors or friends of friends with whom you've shared time; or peers or professors from your academic studies. Obviously, some of these individuals are true friends; others may simply be situational friends---who will play no ongoing role in your life. Eliminate anyone on your list who seems to hold no place in your future and only a peripheral and passing role in your past.

 

5) Remember that this day belongs to you and your husband-to-be

Don't get suckered into inviting people because you feel guilty or because you're returning a favor. You can do that over lunch. This is your day to be true to yourself and to your fiancé. Mazel tov to you and to every other bride struggling with her list!

Allison Winn Scotch's novel, The One That I Want (2010), is an engaging summer beach read that makes you think about the friendships you have and those that have drifted apart.

 

The main character, Tilly Farmer, is a 30-something high school guidance counselor who marries her high-school sweetheart, and still lives and works in the same small town where she grew up. As the story unfolds, we learn how Tillie's past has affected her current relationships. With the help of an old friend and a dash of clairvoyance, Tilly begins to re-examine the choices she's made.

 

I asked Allison, my friend and colleague, about her latest book, her characters and her own friendships. Also check out my previous interview with Allison soon after the release of her last NYT bestseller, Time of My Life.

 

Irene:

Two of the characters that figure prominently in The One That I Want are Tilly Farmer's friends, Susannah and Ashley. Both friends support Tilly during some tough moments in her life. What role have your own friendships played in developing these characters?

 

Allison:

Well, Susannah is a compilation of a few of my closest friends - not in terms of personality or what she goes through, but the understanding of that unconditional support that they offer. That, in your lowest of moments, that she'll show up with a bottle of wine or answer that phone call in the middle of the night or get you out of the house if that's what's called for. I'm someone who can probably count her really true honest-to-god best friends on one hand, but those women are like sisters to me, and so that's more than enough. And that's what Susannah is for Tilly.

As far as Ashley, she was a reflection of some of the friends I've outgrown (or who outgrew me). I think we all have those friends too: girls you were blood sisters with until, say, you hit puberty or went to college or even grew out of in your twenties, and you still look back on them fondly, but now maybe don't have so much in common with anymore.

In Ashley and Tilly's case, they find a way to forge new bonds, but their relationship isn't based strictly on the past, and I think this is important if you're going to renew a friendship like this. It's all well and good to sit around and laugh over high school, but an honest friendship needs more than that. Eventually, Ashley and Tilly discover their new common ground.

 

Irene:

At the start of the story, Ashley feels more like a frenemy than a friend. What happens to Tilly's friendship with Ashley over time?

 

Allison:

A few things. For one, Ashley is the person who literally sparks Tilly's "clarity," which Tilly initially resents and blames Ashley for. But because of this, they start interacting more, and when Tilly really starts to unravel, she realizes she needs someone in her corner, and surprisingly, she wants that person to be Ashley, who is having plenty of problems of her own. And in watching her cope with these problems, Tilly discovers she has a begrudging admiration for Ashley's tenacity. Sometimes - and I've experienced this in my own life - the people you expect to have your back aren't there for you in the way you anticipate, while other people step up and offer support in ways you wouldn't have imagined. That's what happens exactly with Tilly and Ashley - the support and growth and learning goes both ways.

 

Irene:

Because Tilly has remained in the town where she grew up, her friendships have remained fairly constant. Do you think that is a good or bad thing?

 

Allison:

For me, I'm not sure that it would be a good thing, but I know that there are plenty of people for whom it is. What's interesting for me, in terms of assessing my friends and friendship groups, is that many of my truly dear friends are women I've met it my adult life, women who share commonalities with my life now and that's why we've become close. I also have a very tight core group of friends from college, and those women are invaluable to me too - that shared history is important but, at least with the ones I've stayed close with, we also still grown up together and share some similarities in our adult life.

So again, this is just for me, but my friendships are almost similar to romantic relationships in the sense of it's important to me that they not just be about nostalgia but are current and in-the-moment and pertinent to what's happening now, around us, in our thirties. Which isn't to take anything away from childhood friendships or staying close to the friends you grew up with. AT ALL. I think that's admirable too - and it's really what works for each individual. Only that now, at 37, what works for me is that many of my dearest friends are women I've known since my mid-twenties, not necessarily earlier.

 

Irene:

You use the term "friendship fidelity" in the book? What does that mean to you?

 

Allison:

For me, this gets back to your first question: that underlying understanding that through thick and thin, Susanna would be there for Tilly. And I feel the same way about some of my own friends - there is very little I wouldn't do for them. At the same time, many of my friendships have their own rhythms and tides: sometimes, I may literally go two months without connecting with my best friend, but there is no doubt that when either one of us picked up the phone and truly needed the other, that we'd be there.

I feel like the strongest friendships - at least in my life - are those that don't need daily reassurance. It's enough for me (and my friends) to know that somewhere out there, someone has my back, and that when that times comes - whether I just want to crack up for 20 minutes on the phone or am really embroiled in a true crisis - that woman will be there for me, hands down. I'm pretty grateful to know that I have the security of this and to have these women in my life.

 

Friendship by the Book is an occasional series of posts on The Friendship Blog about books that offer friendship lessons.

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I watched My Best Friend (2006) this evening on Netflix (don't know how I missed the original run) and fell in love with the movie. It's a simple story of a wealthy antique dealer who focuses on things rather than relationships. He worries about his own mortality; specifically, who will attend his funeral when he passes away and begins an alternately warm and comedic pursuit to find a best friend.

 

Along the way, Francois (Daniel Auteuil) hooks up with a  taxi driver named Bruno (Dany Boon), an unusual mentor who teaches him the lessons of making friends and being a friend: being social, smiling and sincere. 

 

My favorite lines:

Bruno: Isn't there anybody you can call at 3 a.m. in case you have a big problem?

François: I don't have any big problem.

Bruno: Yes, you have one, you can't call anybody at 3AM!

 

You can read a synopsis of the film here. Watching it made my think about whom I could call at 3AM. Highly recommended!

 

 

Have you ever sat down for lunch with a friend who talks non-stop---without giving you the slightest chance to get a word in edgewise? You begin to feel like you turned on a TV set, helplessly trying to interact with a very boring re-run.

 

Your friend tells you every trite detail of what has transpired since the last time you were together and then, without skipping a breath, reaches further back into the past and tells you stories you've already heard. Your friend's speech is pressured and feels unrelenting.

 

If you like the person well-enough to want to remain friends, here are five tips for making that lunch easier to digest:

1) Try interrupting periodically

Don't feel shy about changing the topic, or directly asking your friend to slow down or stop for a minute so you can have a turn to speak. Given the situation, it isn't rude or impolite. If you're lucky, you may startle the heck out of your friend, disrupt a pattern of one-way conversation, and seize an opportunity to speak and be heard.

2) Be cautious about inadvertently encouraging more of the same

When you're totally bored, don't feign interest by asking questions or giving the yakker other types of positive feedback, perhaps in the form of head nods or ah-ha's. If you look disinterested or glance at your watch, the talker may slow down.

3) Don't label or call the person names

Yes, your friend is probably self-centered, narcissistic and insecure---but if you mention this, the person will only become more defensive, and it may exacerbate the problem rather than solve it. Remember, you're at lunch, not at therapy or a coaching session and you have the right to expect reciprocity.

4) Identify "not being able to get a word in" as a problem for YOU

If you are truly a good friend, tell your friend bluntly---but kindly---that you are feeling frustrated when you get together. Tell your friend that you need and want more give and take in your conversations. If you're lucky and your friendship is solid, the person may have a glimmer of self-insight.

5) If you can't change your friend's behavior, you may have to change your relationship

 

If your friend continues to drone on each time you get together, which is the most likely outcome, you either have to accept the person as-is---or downgrade the relationship: The incessant talker may actually be more tolerable and entertaining in small doses; or else, the intensity of the person's chatter might be diluted proportionately if you get together within a group of common friends instead of in a twosome.

 

If you do decide to call it quits, you'll recoup time to nurture other friendships with people with whom you can have more meaningful and balanced conversations. One more tip, don't' worry. The friend who talks too much will probably find someone else to listen. When someone talks incessantly, there's always a new audience within easy reach---friends, family, or colleagues.

 

What successful strategies have you used to handle an incessant talker?