Friendeavours: romance yourself

‘I’ve been plagued by paranoia, secondguessing friends’ lack of contact’

‘let’s do lunch in spring!’ I found myself saying to a friend the other day. Because this is how we’ve started measuring the year now. In quarters, rather than week by week, like we used to. Another friend has started planning a Christmas party. I kid you not. I suppose December is something we can confidently diarise as a time when we’ll be able to enjoy physical meet-ups again. But who knows when this dystopian parody might end?

One celebration that won’t escape the confines of lockdown is Galentine’s Day on 13 February: that not-so-traditional festival of female friendship where gal pals, rather than romantic partners, are cherished. But how will anyone celebrate their beloved buds this year? Wining and dining is out – gifts and cards are in, but it feels like we’ve been sending so many of those that they’ve almost become the norm (not that I’ll ever tire of food gifts in the post, mind). How can we make Galentine’s (or indeed anything) feel special under the current, ever-wearying restrictions?

Maybe it’s worth remembering that Valentine’s has always been celebrated from afar. It’s about longing, not fulfilment. Lockdown is longing central! I always felt irked by married people and the like exchanging cards. They had anniversaries for that! Valentine’s Day was for new love. It was about risk and mystery. Maybe Galentine’s can be, too. So it’s the perfect time to message potential new friends you’ve fancied saying hi to – what’s to lose? Or why not send some anonymous flowers to your oldest friends, to get their imaginations going? We need all the distractions we can get to push through the next few months.

If mystery isn’t your thing, why not use the day to tell your friends exactly why you love them? I might tell Jess it’s because she always calms me down when I’m panicking about work; or MK that her kindness inspires me to be more positive every day; or Alex that her energy is contagious. Lockdown is lonely, but it has flung into relief so many of my friends’ finest qualities. And we all know now we must not waste time. Love is blind, but it appreciates specifics now and then.

And what if, this year, we made Galentine’s Day about potential? Reached not outwards, but inwards? Yes, I’m going to suggest we take it back to basics and think about how to be a better friend to ourselves. They say that until you learn to love yourself you can’t love anyone else. By the same rule, I think that until you’re a friend to yourself, you can’t be a decent friend to anyone else, either.

I don’t know about you, but I’ve been plagued by paranoia this latest lockdown; second-guessing my friends and their comments or lack of contact, hesitating before reaching out to people: basically worrying too much. We’re all railing, anxious, bereft, overwrought. Our friendships have suffered, often at our own hands (or minds).

So, this 13 February I’m going to romance myself – as I’d treat a friend on her birthday, say. Light candles, make a sexy meal, ask myself some effortful questions: in short, treat myself like a date. That way, I’ll be in the best shape, in terms of what I can give to my friendships, as the world returns to ‘normal’. This Galentine’s Day, be your own girl. Because if you haven’t got her back, you’ll never have anyone else’s.