Friendships are interesting but beautiful beasts, aren’t they? They come in so many different forms throughout the course of our lives. Friends who know you a whole lot, know you a wee bit, or don’t really know you all that well at all. And then there are those who know you instinctively, with whom you share a history so long and deep that even if you haven’t seen each other in years, you pick up where you left off seamlessly. And that, for me, is the most beautiful friendship of all.
An old schoolfriend recently flew in from Canada for a few days. Ahead of her arrival she created a WhatsApp group in an attempt to get us all in the same place at the same time for lunch. Arranging a date everyone can attend is no mean feat when you and all of your friends are now scattered across various parts of London, working, and you know, parenting. But when one of the OGs flies into town it suddenly becomes the easiest group meet-up to arrange ever. You dump everything to see them. Bar a couple who weren’t able to rearrange stuff, the rest of us met up for lunch last week on a sunny Sunday in London.
We’ve known each other more than three decades, but haven’t all been together in the same place for many years. In that time we have experienced the heartache of loss, the joy and pain of children, the worry of illness, the stress of entrepreneurship, the beauty of marriage – the list is endless. Yet when we met on Sunday, it was like we had been frozen in time, and were simply picking up exactly where we left off. That feeling was probably helped by the fact we really haven’t aged that much (apparently there’s a lot to be said for south-east London tap water, AKA the fountain of youth).
I’ve seen so many American TV films and shows featuring characters who are apprehensive about their school reunion. They are worried about what to wear, concerned about how old they look; maybe they have a couple shots of Botox and a little dose of fillers for Dutch courage. That nervousness might ring true for a lot of people meeting up with school friends they’ve known for years, but I’ve never felt like that, and there were definitely no feelings of apprehension when I saw the girls on Sunday.
You know the specific pair of shoes that are your absolute go-to? The ones which are comfy, reliable, and safe, which you look forward to wearing because you know your feet won’t hurt? (Mine’s a 15-year old pair from Miss Selfridge, in case you were wondering). That’s how it felt to see them. Our feet all slipped straight into the comfort of knowing each other for more than three decades. These are the people you entered the teenage world with, the ones you grew into a woman with, the ones who’ve seen you at your snotty-kid worst, but have also seen you at your best teenage self.
With these friends, there are no real pleasantries to pass the time. We don’t need them; on Sunday it was straight in there with the pictures of kids, updates on health, siblings, parents. Taking the mickey out of one of the group who arrived hungover after going big at a Beyoncé concert the night before. Break out conversations so that we felt like there was a bit of quality time with each of us. Nothing felt forced, it was a joyful afternoon that flew by.
But I also know that I’m rubbish at facilitating these things. Jane Moore always says that friendship groups need an organiser – Jane’s that person in our Loose Women friendship group – to make sure everyone sees each other regularly. But as much as I’d love to be that person, I’m just not organised enough or reliable enough to sort these things out. All my old school friends know that about me, unfortunately. I blame the short attention span that blighted all my school reports.
But despite that, they mean the world to me. Because I get to be around people who knew me BMGS and BMD – Before Mum Got Sick, and Before Mum Died. Who knew the teenager I was when I was carefree, without any responsibilities. The teenager I was before my life changed forever. That girl checked out of the world at 16 years old. My friends from school have a unique view of me that so many others don’t, and never will. And there is an added level of comfort in that.
We all have positive and negative experiences at school. My all-girls school really did help shape the woman I became. Not only because I wasn’t battling with the boys, but also because I got to hang out with some of the best girls in South London. Although on the whole I had a great time, it wasn’t always a joy – girls can be wonderful, and girls can also be really mean. I don’t think anyone’s school experience is perfect.
But as we all bid farewell after our long lunch last week, I felt a tug in my heart for these girls, for a time in our lives that was long gone, but a time which was without a doubt instrumental in the creation of the women we became. And that is the beauty of your oldest friends.
