Friend leagues

“I have always wanted to get to know you, but I’ve always thought you were out of my friend league.” I heard this comment at a birthday party several months ago. In the moment, the confession was simply an extension of friendship, an invitation to a deeper relationship. For me, such statements are commonplace, and I have often used similar, explicit declarations to initiate friendships. Currently, my favorite is, “Let’s just be best friends!” I will admit that because of the statement’s frequent use, I now have to classify my friends on a scale from “friends to best friends to best-best-best friends,” but those are stories I will save for another time.

Although in context my friend’s statement about friend leagues was pure and harmless, I somehow could not disregard her remark. I felt insecure because she did not pursue a friendship with me with the same intensity—or at all, for that matter. I felt like we were friends simply because our social lives overlapped, not because she actually wanted to be my friend. Her comment made me question which “friend league” I belonged to. Did she not feel the need to initiate friendship with me because I, too, am in a different friend league, except in my case, a lower one? What qualifies a person for each social league anyway?

In the particular comment above, my friend was specifically referring to the girl’s beauty—the girl was too beautiful to be friends with her. From my friend’s perspective, friend leagues are defined by physical attractiveness. Another factor I would like to suggest is a person’s “fun level." I personally am drawn to people who make me laugh the most, simply because I enjoy laughter. I also notice that within large crowds, I tend to gravitate towards the life of the party because I don’t want to miss out on the excitement. Socioeconomic status and wealth also play a role in defining one’s friend league. Those who do not have the resources to participate in extracurricular activities are automatically excluded from those social circles. The list goes on and on.

My friend’s comment about friend leagues aroused in me an intense awareness of my place among the social leagues. Although I would like to think that I am finished with those days when I used to actively climb the social ladder, I believe that traces of that mindset still remain. Her comment made me conscious of a secret that I have tried to disregard for a while now, partially because it sounds highly superficial. Even though it may appear surface-level, bear with me, because it reveals a deeply vulnerable place of my heart. When attending weddings, I often comment on their “cuteness.” I take several things into account when classifying it as “cute”—how beautiful the bride is, how handsome the groom is and how gorgeous the bridesmaids/groomsmen are. Then I start thinking about my wedding and how I want everyone in it to be just as beautiful. I subsequently go through my mental friend list and begin checking off people I would like to be a part of my wedding. Granted, this is not an active thought process, but deep down, it’s all there.

Friend leagues exist because we have made friendships self-oriented. The factors that define friend leagues coupled with my desires for my wedding reflect an underlying thought process: what can my friends do for me? Friendship, like many other aspects of life, is a two-way street. We get out of friendships what we put into them. Instead of using friendships to meet our needs to feel valued and significant, I propose that we make our friendships more about the other person. Let’s go out of our way this week to make our friends feel special. Let’s make sure our friends know that they are just as valuable regardless of what they can contribute to our lives.

Thao Nguyen is a Trinity junior. Her columns runs every other Tuesday.