The term “best friend” is typically reserved for a childhood friend or someone you have known for a quite awhile, share a bond with, and is also a source of unlimited support during the good times and the bad.

Having a best friend is something we all craved when we are younger. We wanted to have a partner in crime to experience things with, and as the years go by, the bond intensifies and the hope is that it will stay that way.

But as I advance into my thirties, I realize that the landscape of my character is changing and I am no longer the person I was in my early to mid-twenties. Certain things that I would normally overlook are getting harder to ignore, and my purposefulness and candor might be causing friction with the very best person who I believed I could be myself with more than anybody else. Suddenly you are no longer calling as often as you used to, swapping stories isn’t as much fun, and you think twice before inviting her to join you and a couple of “new” friends to hang. It’s almost like you’ve become strangers and that dependable familiarity slowly starts to fade away and then you wonder if she really is still your best friend.

I spoke to some girlfriends about their take on the best friend syndrome, and a lot of them echoed my sentiments. The need for a best friend sometimes wears thin as you get older and both your priorities change, and due to life’s way of forcing you on individual paths, you tend to grow apart.

Sometimes the changes are positive to the friendship, and even though there might be a slight interlude, you both can still remain closer than ever before. But there are those instances when, it becomes a challenge to maintain that level of consistency that brought you two together and you have to face the fact that you don’t actually have a best friend, you just have a friend. And maybe that’s okay too. As adults, you will meet plenty of people who will eventually become good friends so trying to hold on to the idea of a best friend no longer applies and becomes almost childish.

I guess that’s one of the casualties of being a grown up.

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