Girl Politics

My first year of primary school was the last time I had a male best friend, or any male friends at all for the rest of my childhood. During my nursery and infants school years, my best friends were always boys. I got along with them better, in a simpler time before gender politics and social hierarchy kicked in when we were all old enough.

What seemed to happen in primary school was a polarisation of boys and girls. My former best friend ditched me for a group of male friends, and by default I drifted into a girl friendship group. No idea why this happened or why I went along with it, as girls in general remain a complete mystery to me. My ignorance on the social politics of girlhood cost me, and in my final year of primary school I was somehow usurped and kicked out of the friendship group for a reason that still mostly escapes me. I annoyed the ‘Queen Bee’ somehow, probably by refusing to treat her as a ‘Queen Bee’.

Then for the first year of secondary school I was like a lost kitten, randomly adopted by various girls who were already embracing their mothering instinct. I was the surrogate friend, available for hire if anyone fell out with their best friend and needed a temporary replacement. So I developed this chameleonic personality that changed to fit whoever I was with at the time. Girly. Bitchy. Boy crazy. Dancey. God, that one was a terrible phase.

Luckily, I found a best friend who shares my bizarre sense of humour and idiocy. She got me through the rest of our school days, at least one person who made me laugh even when I was at my lowest. But she’s the exception that proves the rule where female friendships are concerned; I still regard my own species with no small amount of confusion. My first year of university proved that when I lived in accommodation with four other girls, getting ready with them on nights out and watching them like a naturalist observes the behaviour of wild animals. Still, what I learned from my time as a friend for hire did stop me from making the same mistakes. 

For instance, in my first year of university I temporarily befriended another girl who shared many of my classes. She seemed nice enough, but the girl who sat with her and shadowed her set my alarm bells ringing, and not for the reason you’d expect. The girl was sweet, very overweight, seemingly with low self-esteem, and I could see the definite power dynamic between her and our mutual friend. It made me realise that said mutual friend was another Queen Bee, and I wasn’t willing to be part of her entourage. By then I was too old, and had just enough pride to steer clear of that kind of friendship. I’m quite happy to be the weird friend, but I won’t be a worshipper.