Friendships Between Thirtysomething Women Are Pearls

One of my favorite places to spend time on the internet is Salon.com. They offer high-quality journalism in a world where there’s a lot of SEO click bait type articles and listicles of no real value.  Yesterday on Salon.com, I found this gem of an article written by Emily J. Smith: Breaking up with my type: How I learned to stop worrying and let myself loathe the men I once desired.

Emily talks about how she used to be attracted to hipster man-children with beards and skinny jeans who were self-centered and only interested in their own stories and lives. I’ve been there, so I could relate.

But what I loved most about the article was this part, about her friendships with 30-something females. She calls them treasures – pearls. I couldn’t agree more.

Here’s what Emily J. Smith wrote about that:

It was then, when I gave up on men completely, that I discovered the treasure — the pearls — that are 30-something female friendships. Around 30, I realized, was when single women got better and single men got worse. It’s the age when women have internalized and learned to deal with the injustice that comes with their gender; they get stronger and give fewer shits. Men, on the other hand, learn that their wrinkles are by some weird miracle considered attractive, as are their dad-like bodies, and that essentially the limits of time as we know it do not apply to them. They get spoiled.

My relationships with women were like a whole other species compared with my romantic flings. We traded honest stories of struggle. We empathized with years of pushing ourselves to be more aggressive with the men we worked with and more chill with the men we slept with. We’d learned to manipulate and contort our feelings so many times we were lion tamers of emotion. When we finished a bag of Kettle Chips in one sitting we reminded one another that we deserved it. We shared tips on body-hair removal and fears of infertility. I learned what real conversation felt like. We asked questions, admitted flaws; we listened to one another and let ourselves be vulnerable.

Beautiful. And don’t forget that the culturing process of a pearl usually takes several years.

 

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