Having a frenemy sucks. But at least there is some sort of unspoken agreement there—that you both acknowledge the sense of competition. The other night, some friends and I were talking about the concept of frenemies at a bar and I realized that I actually had my very first one in high school—only I had no idea that’s what was going on. Leslie* and I were best friends for about a year. But though I couldn’t identify it at the time, there was definitely something off about our friendship. Leslie would always ask me what score I got on a test, only to tell me that she had done better (even if it wasn’t true). And when I told her about the awesome job I’d gotten at a local movie theater, she apparently went in and applied without saying a thing to me about it. But the worst was when I told her about a mega crush I had on a guy in one of my classes. Apparently, at a party one night, she made out with him. When another friend told me this, I confronted Leslie. “Oh,” she said. “I wanted to find out for you if he liked you or if he would kiss another girl.”
At the time, I actually thought, Of course! She was just doing reconnaissance for me. I’m so lucky to have a good friend who looks out for me. But now I get it: she always needed to one up me to make herself feel better.
Talking to other women, it seems like a lot of us had this type of proto-frenemy relationship like this and didn’t quite realize what was going on. After the jump, The Frisky staff tells their tales. Add yours in the comments section. Keep reading »
This month marks the six-year anniversary of my divorce. A lot has changed since then. I’ve lived on my own (no parents, roommates, boyfriend, or husband). I dated again for the first time in a long time (how long? there was no internet the last time I dated). I changed jobs, got another degree, changed careers, moved across the country. Fell in love again.
I’m happy, extremely so. So why do people still act sorry for me when they hear I’m no longer married and the reason why? Keep reading »
A few months ago I was flipping out to one of my guy friends about my love life, as I often do. (Sorry, guys.) I had gone on a second date to eat a home-cooked meal at a gentleman’s apartment and ended up spending the night. We didn’t have sex, but we did in lots of other activities that aren’t your typical second date material. Of course, come Monday morning, I started freaking out that this gentleman caller would lose interest in me because we’d done too much too soon. So I instant messaged my friend D., who is also single, and asked what he thought.
“What time did all this happen?” He IMed back.
“I don’t know,” I wrote. “I came over for dinner at eight, we ate dinner and dessert, then we talked on the couch for a long time and he gave me a footrub. After midnight?”
“Oh, that’s fine, then,” D. wrote back. “When a date goes into the wee hours of the morning, it really becomes another date. And hooking up on a third date is pretty standard.”
Oooooh, I thought to myself. That makes sense! Let’s call this “the principle of elongated dating.” Keep reading »
When I first met Ethan, I was in love with his friend.
Josh, however, was not in love with me, and told me so. We hadn’t been dating long, but I had met his mother over the holidays and thought things were getting serious, that we might have a future. When he assured me we didn’t, I felt confused, misled and heartbroken.
Ethan had no idea how I felt or that I had given up sugar, gluten, fried food, meat, dairy, alcohol and caffeine in an attempt to cleanse my body of the pain. Ethan had just moved to New York City and was simply looking to meet new people. I agreed to lunch, thinking Ethan might report back to Josh that I was cool and pretty, and what the hell was he thinking?! Keep reading »
In middle school and high school, it seemed like there was drama with friends every five minutes over stupid crap, like who was copying whose outfit, or who the cutest boy in school liked more. Now that we’re adults — well, most of the time — friend blowouts are few and far between. But when they happen, they are seriously gory. If I flip out on a friend, it has to be over something really major. Sometimes the friendships survive and get stronger and sometimes … not so much. After the jump, some Frisky staffers share their worst friend battles in recent history. Share yours in the comments. Keep reading »