Buddies, besties, chums, mates, muckers… I’ve always been fascinated by the nature of friendship but this month I met three pals I’d previously only known from the online world. Pleased to say that they did not disappoint IRL.
Those encounters gave me food for thought about how some bonds last a lifetime whilst others crash and burn, or turn out to be fair weather. But isn’t it funny how the very special connections don’t need frequent or immediate proximity? Just ask my bestie Helen, 44 years since we first met in a bar in Crete. There’s a few hundred miles between us but there’s NOTHING we wouldn’t share, including hysterical gales of the giggles whenever we meet.
Helen and Mairi, 2015
Friendship, you see, is as important to me as fresh air. My buddies have been the very bedrock of my existence – not my tribe exactly, they’re far too diverse a bunch for that – they’re the people I thank most for seeing me right, keeping me afloat and making my heart sing. But it wasn’t always thus, as a wean I simply wasn’t good at forming friendships. I was a shy, introverted, dreamy wee girl, sadly lacking savvy when it came to social interaction. For many reasons, my family weren’t able to provide much in the way of positive attention, which resulted in lack of confidence, loneliness and a sense that I simply wasn’t best mate material… As I entered my early teens, I did begin to make pals, but when I look back (in anger), I realise that I was a bit prone to being picked up and dumped by so-called BFFs who simply needed a stooge.
Things improved when I made pals with a few fellow misfits at secondary school, kids like me, who were fired up by the possibilities that the punk and 2Tone movements offered to those of us unmoved by the mainstream. One of that crew and I will have been big mates for FIFTY years this summer and that diamond geezer remains a source of the deepest joy.
Indeed, pals procured during those crucial formative teenage years most definitely came accompanied by a punk, new wave and ska-tinted sensibility. As well as the high jinks, there was a lot of daft and misguided bad behaviour, but those guys provided the deep sense of belonging I struggled to find at home. But in case you’re thinking this all sounds a bit dewy eyed and rose-tinted, I was hopelessly naive as a teenager and had a tendency to be too trusting, hitching my friendship to anyone who showed a bit of interest in me. Even in adulthood, I’ve occasionally been foolish with my friendship, offering it up too quickly to some who have betrayed my trust and affection.
Obviously, being chucked (or even backstabbed) by a so-called confidant is crap, but on balance, I reckon being open to new people and the possibility of building bonds is worth the risk of dealing with the few who are lowdown and dirty. After all, when it goes well, the rewards are substantial. And as a person who thrives on good craic, I’ve found friends in unlikely places. One tremendous sidekick is a fellow small business owner who I first encountered in the queue for the bar at the Barrowland ten years ago. Then there’s my superb Spanish amigo, truly the best of the best – I met him on a dance floor and we’ve been talking joyous pish ever since.
Naturally, not all of my friendships revolve around small talk and laughing like drains. It’s an absolute truism that you really find out who your friends are when the proverbial hits the fan. And even when some mates don’t step up, if you’re a thoughtful and sensitive soul, you might forgive them because maybe they just don’t know what to say, or simply can’t deal with difficult shit. But to those who’ve stayed solid through thick and thin, I salute you.
In fact, I’m raising a glass to all my friends, new and old, this summer (and always). You guys rock.
