There
was a Friends reunion on TV recently.
Not the kind that fans of the show had hoped for, where we would find out what
had happened to the 6 now forty-something New Yorkers that took over Friday
night TV between 1994 and 2004.
Instead,
5 of the friends (Matthew Perry was in London, where he’s written and is starring in a West End play), sat on a sofa and had an awkward conversation
about what good friends they are in real life.
To
quote Carrie Bradshaw, (more on her later) it got me thinking.
I am a terrible friend.
About a
year ago, having a clear out, I found some letters from a girl I used to work
with. I’ll call her B. B moved back to
her home country in early 2000, and for a while we kept in touch via letters
and postcards. We spoke on the phone a few times and she visited the UK.
I don’t
know who stopped writing first – it may have been me. It was probably me, but I had thought about her on and off over the years.
When I
read over her letters, I decided I’d see if I could get in touch with her
again. Of course, Facebook, Twitter, etc has made this much easier, and I found her pretty much right away. I sent B an email I hoped was friendly, but not
too stalky, and waited. And waited. And waited. I'm still waiting - she’s never replied.
Part of
me felt the same rejection I would have felt as a child, not being invited to
the party or being picked last for PE teams. I had stupidly thought that
despite the passing years, B would be pleased to hear from me and that she
would respond.
Then I
thought about all the other friendships I’ve had, and all the friendships that
I’ve fucked up.
The
ex-school mate who contacted me via Facebook and I actually asked him if he was
in my year when I knew full well he was.
The
girl who I used to work with, and with who I used to go to a once weekly
aerobics class.
The two
friends I lost total contact with, apart from having them on my FB friends
list, after they moved away.
I have
to think about why I am a terrible friend.
I don’t
remember things, for a start. I forget important events, birthdays and
anniversaries. I forget when people have been through terrible times and say
incredibly insensitive things.
I
always thought I was pretty good at keeping in touch. A halfhearted text or
email every now and again is not a good enough effort. At the same time, do I
know when to let it go? Have I persisted with a friendship when the friend
clearly didn’t want to keep in touch?
I am
incredibly self- absorbed. A friend can
come to me with a crisis, and I’ll manage to steer conversation away from their
problems and get them to talk about my petty miseries.
One
example I can give (the other one that sticks out in my mind is way too shameful
for me to even put into words) was the time I had a bad haircut. It was the day
before a friend’s wedding. I went round to her house after the haircut to help
her with some last minute preparations. And all I could go on about was my
hair. On and on and on I went, about my stupid fucking hair.
I inadvertently
make people feel bad. This is because I frequently say things without thinking,
and then spend the next 3 weeks apologising. This means people think of me as
an oversensitive worrier and probably feel like they can't say anything, lest it cause me to obsessively fret.
I’d
rather let someone down then face my fears. (another example I’m too ashamed to
put in words.)
The
worst thing, the thing that makes me cringe, makes me feel sick, is the
bitching. The thing with bitching is:
1) It’s fun (well, fun in the way that doing
something that later makes you feel terrible is fun, like getting drunk and
smoking 15 cigarettes.)
2) You
feel like you’re part of a group.
3) At the time, you don’t stop and think, ‘wait,
if we’re bitching about this person, does it mean that you bitch about me when I’m not there?
Bitching
has got me in trouble in the past. Did I learn my lesson? No. Have I stopped my
bitchy ways now? I hope so. When I catch myself about to indulge, I have a quiet
word with myself.
If I am
self-aware enough to stop bitching, surely I can remember people’s birthdays,
listen a little harder, absorb a little more, pay the speaker the full
attention they deserve and not off-load all of my tiny worries onto my friends?
So, I
would like to say:
Sorry
to all the friends I’ve let down, lost touch with and been a dick to. Sorry to
all the friends that came to me with problems and got an earful of mine
instead. Sorry to anyone I ever hurt with my thoughtless behaviour. I'm sorry.
Thank
you to the friends that have put up with and continue to put up with me, and
weirdly, still seem to like me. Thank you for infinite patience when I have worried and worried and worried incessantly about a trivial thing. Thank you for taking it as part of who I am and just accepting it. Thank you.
I
promise I’ll try and be a better friend.
Case Study: Why Carrie Bradshaw is a
Terrible Friend
Watching
the SATC boxset, over ten years after the final episode, I’ve realised
something. I am surprised when girls
say they are ‘a Carrie’, because Carrie is actually kind of a douche. And here’s
why:
1)
She’s
always letting people down
The Bullshit Bagels: When
Miranda hurts her neck and calls Carrie for help, Carrie sends round her
boyfriend Aidan to help Miranda (who has thrown her neck out taking a shower,
and is thus lying naked on the bathroom floor.) Carrie then later goes round ‘to
apologise’ to Miranda for sending Aidan, but actually just wants an excuse to
bitch about Aidan. Aidan that went to pick her friend up off the floor, and
take her to hospital.
2)
She’s
totally self –absorbed and selfish
‘Paper covers rock’: When Carrie is
dumped by Post-it, by a man she has been seeing about five minutes and is
having terrible sex with, she seems to think this is far more important than Charlotte’s making it up with her long
term boyfriend and getting engaged. Carrie slaps the aforementioned Post-It
note across Charlotte's engagement ring and says, ‘yeah? Well paper covers rock!’
Chemo: Samantha is having
chemo, so Carrie naturally thinks this is the perfect time to bang on about her
sexy new boyfriend.
Hotel: She makes Samantha take
a terrible sleeper train journey across the county. When they finally get to
their hotel, Samantha naturally wants to take a nice hot bath. No such luck,
Sam! Carrie wants to bang Big in the room. Off you fuck!
Talking about Samantha….Carrie
constantly slut shames her, even though Samantha remains completely judgement
free about Carrie’s questionable choices.
3)
She
messes with people’s feelings
Aidan: I am not sure that
Carrie ever really liked furniture maker Aidan (until she couldn’t have him)
After all, you don’t tell someone that you’re mad keen on that you should ‘see
each other less so you can miss each other more,’ do you?
She cheats
on Aidan (with a married Mr Big) then decides she wants Aidan back (probably
because he’s lost weight, has cut his hair and has stopped wearing turquoise
rings and because Carrie has all the depth of a toilet bowl.)
She
invites a broken-hearted Big to come and stay at Aidan’s country house and then
is shocked when they have a fight.
She won’t
wear Aidan’s engagement ring on her finger, but on a chain around her neck, because 'it's closer to my heart this way,' (not because she doesn't actually want to marry Aidan and can't admit it.)
Natasha: Big’s wife, finds out
that Carrie is banging her husband when she catches her semi-naked in her
kitchen. Natasha chases Carrie (who does what all big girls do, and that’s run
away,) until Natasha slips on steps and knocks a tooth out.
When
Natasha refuses to take Carrie’s calls, Carrie stalks her to the restaurant
where she’s having lunch. She then gets annoyed that Natasha won’t forgive her.
I suspect that Carrie apologises not because she is genuinely sorry, but to
have the feelings of guilt lifted by being forgiven.
AND
THEN the only thing she has to say about the whole thing is that she is
responsible for Natasha being single again!
4)
She’s a
bit of a bunny boiler
Carrie
has been seeing Big for about six months. She dumps him when he won’t say ‘you’re
the one,’ and then spends the next few weeks walking around crying and wearing
sun glasses because she’s soooo
heartbroken.
5)
She
says she’s a writer but:
There
are no books in her house, you never see her read a book and she never talks
about books. Only Vogue.
6)
She’s
just a dick
When she
gets annoyed with Charlotte for not immediately offering to bail her out of her
financial troubles; when Miranda gets pregnant and is trying to decide if she
should keep the baby or not, Carrie brings it back to the abortion she had 13
years ago; when she goes out until 4am and gets trashed the night before she has
a magazine photo shoot; when she bumps into Aidan with his new baby, all she
says is ‘I have a date!’; when Aidan bought her a new computer after hers
fucked up and she wasn’t grateful; when she invited Miranda on a double date
with Aidan and Steve and then told Miranda to go and take Steve with her as she wanted to be alone with Aidan….
Over
the course of the six season run of SATC, the three other women grow and
change. Carrie remains the same; selfish, self-absorbed and childish.
Back in
1998, I may have said I was most like Carrie. In 2016, I really, really, hope I’m
not. I hope I’ve grown. I hope I’ve changed.
