Hello friend, welcome to Scrap Facts. I’m Katherine, and I’m glad you’re here.
If you’re new here, welcome. This newsletter came about from my health reporter days when I wanted to find a way to give life to the many fascinating tidbits that got cut from my stories. Now I’m on the other side it’s more evolved into a space where I write about what I learn wherever I can.
For me, the beginning of the year has always felt like fall — not January. It’s the end of summer and the start of my next trip around the sun. My birthday almost always falls on Labor Day weekend.
This year, my new chapter includes a new living arrangement. My spouse has moved in order to attend a PhD program at Harvard. I’ll be driving back from Boston on my birthday, because I am staying put in Washington, D.C. where I’ll work and take care of the house and our kitties.
In a lot of ways, we really lucked out. It’s Harvard! A program of his dreams! And I finally have the financial stability to maintain our D.C. life solo! Life achievement unlocked, baby! Given all the other factors in our lives, this is the best-case scenario.
But still, it sucks. As I’m writing this, we’re sitting in bed before we make a final run at Ikea. I’m dreading leaving tomorrow, because Ben is my best friend. We’re obviously capable of being on our own, but we didn’t get married because we enjoyed time apart.
In preparation for this shift in living situations, I set myself up with a therapist I had previously worked with. In our initial meeting, I told him how everything is fine — really great, actually. Except for this looming deadline of Ben’s semester start, and also I can’t sleep, I’m unreasonably short with people, and a lot of the social activities that usually bring me joy now fill me with dread.
But I’m fine, I emphasized. Really. I just want to get to a place where I can feel the way I should, which is fine, the way I am on paper.
Therapist Dan pointed out that there’s a lot to unpack here. I grimaced. Mind your business, Dan, I thought, even though I had technically called the meeting and am in fact paying him for his time.
As a beginning exercise, Therapist Dan suggested writing down a list of people I consider friends I can call on instead of Ben in different case scenarios — victory/obstacle at work, movie watching, mini book reports, gabbing, showing off pictures of our cats, sudden ice cream craving, etc. All of these are things Ben and I became accustomed to sharing with each other whenever we wanted by shuffling a few feet to the other’s office door and poking our heads in. Friends wouldn’t replace Ben by any means, but they could potentially help fill the void I may feel in his physical absence.
This list, Therapist Dan said, should also note when a person may not be able to be the best support system — just to set reasonable expectations for myself. My friends with kids will likely not be able to spontaneously come over for a movie night, but rather will be able to plan events a few days to weeks out, for example. Completely understandable.
As Ben went to the orientation for his program this past week, I dutifully made a list of everyone I know and have more than a superficial connection with. I wrote down the things we have in common, and what we may like to do together.
Again, I am lucky! I have all these people in my life! I have running group pals, neighbors, book talk pals, disc golf and DnD pals, gabbing pals, and long-distance voice memo pals that I see once every few months to annually. I should be fine!
But then I came to a jarring conclusion: None of my friends are what I like to call group chat friends.
In my mind, a group chat friend is the kind of person you share your whole day with and then some. A bestie, in other words. They are your ultimate cheerleader down to the smallest victories, and have a running list of anyone who has ever wronged you lest they need to rise to your defense. They are also likely in another group chat with you, likely with a weird name like “Ravioli Divas” or “Alligator Bait” or “Gremlin Rants.”
Ben fits this role, of course. I also have signed several legal documents with him. I am a total simp, and I’m not afraid to admit it.
But it’s not really the same as the friends I had a decade ago, where we were all too happy to be on our phones talking throughout our days at our crappy jobs, where we were hustling to have slightly more stable, less crappy jobs. We’d meet up after work for the alcohol we could still process with reasonable ease (back when I drank), and then we’d talk about it all in our chat the next day.
In more recent years, I’d have chats with long-distance pals where we’d gab throughout the day about our triumphs and trials. We’d complain about our bigger problems, or we’d plan trips to see each other. Not as active, but not silent.
I still have some of these chats. But they’re quieter than before. In some cases, this is because I had one genuine falling-out that still guts me to this day. (We had multiple chats, friend breakups are awful.) Mostly, it’s because my friends and peers are just really busy.
No one tells you that growing up, the higher stakes become such that group chats fade. As your career grows, you have bigger tasks that require more mental energy, so you have less time to talk. Maybe family support takes more energy, or you have more serious health concerns you need to manage. All of these things take up the time you’d spend gabbing away.
Again, this isn’t bad. My relationship with myself and others have grown beautifully. My family and chosen family show up when it matters. But that just isn’t every day anymore.
Even now, I feel a bit defensive admitting this. Maybe my experience is unique to me, and actually everyone else my age maintains a perfect best friend group, just as 2000s romcoms foretold us. Maybe I am simply a friendless loser, incapable of maintaining besties because I am fundamentally flawed.
When I’ve shared my friendship fears with others in my life — including those in my friend notebook — many of them affirmed that they’re in a similar place. I feel surrounded by people, but what if I don’t have any real friends? Or I blinked, and I haven’t actually seen the people closest to me in months.
I suppose it’s comforting to know that, once again, various forms of loneliness are the most ubiquitous experiences. This knowledge breaks through at least some of the discomfort of feelings of isolation.
And as much as I want to be there for the friends I have on a deeper level — maybe even turning some of them into besties — I don’t even have time required to maintain the group chats of my 20s. I’d be exhausted by it.
It’s not bad now, of course. As I have repeatedly stated, I am fine. In all seriousness, there are parts of this new chapter I am looking forward to. Can you believe that in 32 years, I have never lived alone? This is a chance for me to get to know myself on a deeper level, and to stretch my wings as I take on ambitious projects that frankly, I wouldn’t take on with Ben around because I’d want to spend the time with him.
Perhaps more importantly, I want to focus on the relationships with my existing friends. I cherish each and every person I wrote down in my little notebook, and I want to deepen those relationships further by asking for help and by being there for them, too. What a gift, to realize the joy of these friendships and their potential to grow even further. It’s exciting to have a new chapter, even if there are undeniably sad parts.
The other comfort I’m holding onto is that, even as I feel scared and a little alone, feelings like this won’t be forever — because this phase of life will end too.
It has for one of my long-distance besties, who is blossoming in a friend group after a lot of family responsibilities took up their time in their 20s. And it also has for my mom, who gets weekly coffee with her friends from work. They’re retired from that job now, and when they shared employment they had no time for gabbing. But they have that luxury now!
I don’t know how to end this essay other than to say, dear reader, that I’m grateful you’ve read this. Writing — and reading what others write — is another way that I feel less alone. I hope this essay had the same effect on you 🩵
What else have I been up to?
Have you ever had one of those days that you think is just a top-10 life experience? In early August, I had one such weekend. My dad and I went to a Chicago and Earth, Wind, and Fire concert. When they played “September,” I cried happy tears. The next day, we went to the Udvar-Hazy Air and Space museum where I learned that the X-Jet is based off the real-life Blackbird! It was incredible.
And THEN I went to a quarry! A real-life quarry with friends! With rope swings and diving boards and everything! It was the kind of weekend that was so good, so full of joy, I’m not even sad that it’s over. Those memories will be keeping me warm as the temperatures fade into fall.
I’ve decided that Katherine Center is my new favorite comfort read. I’m slowly working my way through her novels, which have elements of romance — but are secondary to a strong female MC overcoming something bigger than she ever thought she’d be able to. I’d recommend starting with How to Walk Away if you’re interested.
I also recently finished Semiosis by Sue Burke. An incredible sci-fi novel in which plants are the dominant intelligent life force on a planet, and humans have to figure out how to work with (for?) them to survive. Highly recommend, but not nearly as breezy.
To see my latest reads, follow me on Storygraph.
That’s all for now. Stay curious, friend! ❤️
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Thanks for writing this! Very much enjoyed reading and relating to it.
Beautiful rumination on how friendships evolve and take on different shapes. Thanks for sharing!