Moving and Moving and Where are my Friends?

When I was in high school, I was always told to follow my dreams, and especially while I was young, while I had nothing holding me back. No husband, no debt, no bills, no house, be free!  So I did.

I moved from Nebraska to Missouri back to Nebraska then up to New York in the past four years.  I loved every second.  While there were moments of confusion, I knew what I wanted to accomplish, and figuring out how to manage was fun once it was accomplished!

My experiences are rich, I couldn’t be happier with my academic career, and I’m eager to move to Los Angeles in the upcoming months to jump into the film industry.  There is one thing that hasn’t been so consistent with my life in the past few years, however. Friends. Not boyfriends, not peers, not professors, just friends.

Going to three schools in four years is a problem when it comes down to friendship. I don’t talk to many of the girls I went to high school with, or spent my freshman year of college with.  Being a transfer student in New York meant that I met some people in the last two months of school, only to move away after graduation.  Why?!

I don’t have a core group of girls I graduated with that reconvenes every summer and winter to gossip and catch up.  I don’t have sorority sisters to sing songs with or road trip to. I don’t have a group chat that constantly updates each other. I don’t even have a best friend. Shit. I don’t have a best friend.

At the very top of this lack of friends is a small bolt of jealousy. Envy. Bitterness. Sadness. Worthlessness. Quiet.

I recognize this because so many people around me have these small groups, posses, circles.  I don’t.  For example, my boyfriend, he is so close with like seven guys he went to high school and college with.  They hang out all the time, literally, every single day.  They go to each others homes, know each others families, and just bask in each other for hours upon hours. And I couldn’t be more jealous. So jealous. Every time he’s with them, I’m angry. I want that. I crave that. But I don’t have that.

Where’s my pack of sassy girls? Why don’t I get to spend every night of the week painting my nails, drinking wine, watching Legally Blonde over and over, and bitching about absolutely everything with anyone?

Was I not supposed to travel? Should I have stayed in my hometown, and gone to the university here, and just stayed close with everyone I was close to four years ago? I’m so grateful for what has happened in these past four years, but where the hell did my friends go?

Is this just a part of growing up? Do I sound like an angsty thirteen year old girl who just doesn’t know how to fit in? Am I wrong? Should I just shut up?

At the end of the day, I know I’m not alone. I have people that care and a family that loves. I am proud of who I am, I’m independent, and I’m ambitious. I’ll be fine. I just endure loneliness.

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