No, I haven’t raised my own bb sourdough starter yet or successfully kept to a fitness routine. I haven’t even figured out a good hair-washing schedule (it’s all just one big grease bomb). But I have used my social distancing time as an excuse to painlessly (for me) cut off some friendships that I already wanted out of.
There were no “this is why I dislike you” breakup convos over Zoom or even endless “So sorry!!! I’m sooooo busy!!!” texts as I fade into the distance, never to be seen again. I’m just ignoring them all and moving on up. And what better time is there than right now, when the stakes are so high everywhere else?
I know why that’s shitty! But as I’m typing this, I have six unread Instagram DMs, four Facebook messages, and five unread texts from toxic college friends and people who I haven’t seen since One Direction was still on The X Factor and I don’t give a fuck. In fact, I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off my back—even though I live in the epicenter of a global pandemic. I am the human version of this bad boy: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
I first flexed my newfound villain power in early March when I chose not to text a friend on her birthday, even though she had texted me on mine a few weeks prior. Yes, I knew she’d be pissed off if I didn’t. Maybe so pissed off that she wouldn’t speak to me again? I didn’t care.
To be fair, I did have other things on my mind that day. It was my first day of working from home because of COVID-19, and as an immunocompromised person, I was more focused on figuring out how I was going to self-isolate in New York City. I kept telling myself I’d text her later.
But the end of the day eventually rolled around, so I closed my laptop, sank deep into my couch, and realized I was out of excuses. I had to text her a quick note. Right after I caught up on my Instagram feed. And after I watched the Normal People trailer for the fifth time just to *feel* something. And after I flipped back to Instagram. But then I had to catch up on everything Governor Cuomo had said about possibly closing the state. You get it by now. I couldn’t do it. I didn’t want to.
Like, maybe you just don't need that one friend who spills personal secrets and only cares about your life when you're failing—especially during a pandemic.So when my boyfriend FaceTimed me to check up on my day and asked me if I’d texted said friend yet, I just bluntly said, “Nope, I’m not going to.” (Don’t you love a good “speak before you think” moment???) He raised his eyebrows a bit, well aware of the fact that every time I hung out with this friend, I left feeling miserable and like three years had been taken off my life. I was very, very happy about my decision. And no, I have not heard from her since.
It’s no secret that friendships are actually very hard—especially now with the added pressure of group chats and social media. It’s very easy, in theory, for your friends to truly be your friends for life. For better or for worse, to have and to hold, chicks before dicks and all of that. But the reality is, people grow apart and that’s sometimes a pretty dope thing. Like, maybe you just don’t need that one friend who spills personal secrets and only cares about your life when you’re failing—especially during a pandemic.
But everywhere you look now, someone is preaching togetherness. Yes, the world needs to come together and stay home for our health care workers and those working on the front lines. Yes, we need to help at-risk groups and vote the fuckers who are bailing out billion-dollar companies instead of their own constituents out of office. But I don’t want to come together to stare at a friend who has treated me pretty horribly on FaceTime just because an inspiring Microsoft Teams ad said that I should!
