And yet I’ve spent the past two decades neglecting them. It hasn’t been intentional. It’s just that, as a cisgender female, I was raised to believe that one day, I would meet my soul mate, fall in love, get married, and have children. At that point, my life would revolve around my spouse and child and, to a lesser extent, my job. Everything else would fall away. And though I believe that the concept of soul mates is bullshit, that’s still pretty much how it played out for me. I met a guy, I got married, I had a child, and I reshaped my life to revolve around that child. And though I wanted to see my friends, I truly did, it always felt like the logistics were too hard. And my chaotic schedule was too…chaotic. And on top of that, I was exhausted. Endless back-and-forths with friends resulted in quick coffee dates scheduled weeks into the future. If there were more than two of us, we sometimes had to resort to sending out a Doodle. This isn’t specific to me. It’s a familiar story. With the societal diminishment and deprioritization of female friendships in the face of heterosexual romantic relationships, we often forget how essential those friendships are to our well-being. We minimize their role in our lives. And then? They fall away. When the pandemic happened and I was stuck in the house with only my husband and child, I felt as if I were suffocating. It was at that point that something strange happened. I became more social than I’d ever been before (albeit via Zoom). Female friends reached out to form virtual book clubs and writing groups. Female friends reached out to schedule regular video chats. When it felt safe to do so, female friends texted me about going on walks and having outdoor playdates with our children. The playdates were really for us. As our children ran feral around our backyards, we sat six feet apart, sipped our beers, and checked in with each other. If I mentioned that I couldn’t find graham crackers at the market, multiple boxes would appear on my doorstep a day or two later. If I mentioned that my child was driving me bonkers, I’d receive an onslaught of links to activity ideas. In long-running chat groups, we’d allow ourselves to fall apart. Oftentimes, we felt we couldn’t do so in front of our immediate families. I didn’t read a huge amount of books that centered on female friendships before the pandemic, but I find that, in recent years, they hold greater appeal. Here are a few of my faves. And there you have it. My favorite books about female friendships. If this list didn’t give you nearly enough to read in the realm of not-comics, I invite you to check out this list of 12 more female friendship books.
