Frankly Put: A Shifting Perspective on the Friend-zone
Every so often I am put in a position that allows me to flip my point of view on things in life and every so often I am astounded by the new perspectives I now take. Anyway, welcome to another ride on my train of thought.
I remember being a teenager and the boys’ group had just started talking to girls. At that point, it felt like hell was the definition of the friendzone. They were synonymous with one another. They meant the same thing—the same place and oh to be young with that naivete.
How we would slingshot one of us from the group to walk across no-man’s-land to talk to a girl and cross our fingers in his favour. He would chat to the girl and when he came back anything but the friendzone was accepted as a win. Even rejection tasted sweeter because one could lie to keep their ego taut. The friend zone was this jail cell for a happy-go-lucky bachelor. A shameful mark on your record.
It would ricochet off the main guy and hit the rest of the group in sorrow and disappointment. I look back at that now and I can only wish to have that veil over my eyes again. Nothing can put it back and the worst is yet to come. No one tells you better the friend zone than the emptiness of being strung along and left high and dry or worse, the divorce that leaves you with nothing to your name — not even the dignity you thought you were born with.
I will admit it was a dramatic outlook on life and possibly caused many to chicken out of approaching any prospective partners because the shame of the friend zone was heavier than the joy of a possible puppy love. I would like to say that I have evaded the sharp hand that is the dreaded “friend zone” but I have caught a slap once… or twice. I think it’s healthy. This is not a case parallel to how people with money would tell you money is not everything just because they have it. It is more so just a place of again, shifting my point of view on the matter.
I often want to go back and tell those little boys, “Just ask her to be your friend,” because honestly, it would be a lot more worth the emotional strife to not jump the gun but then I remember that it is encouraging friendship as a means to an end then I revert back to my “spare the rod, spoil the child” mentality. All in all, I am not here to really change minds, just to write out what is on mine. If it happens to tip your perspective, it is what it is. If it doesn’t, at least you’ll get a good 5 minute read from it.
So, what shifted this perspective? I can’t say it was the pain of heartbreak. I can’t say it was the disappointment. If I can trace it back, it would have to be the breakdown of the phrase “friend zone”. I began to question who I called a “friend”. Does rejection automatically mean a new friend? And what is this zone we are relegating ourselves to in the name of soothing rejection? Since when has friendship become a consolation prize for unwanted romantic pursuits?
As a young adult trying to find definitions in this world, in the realm of human relations I think a “friend” is one thing I have written and rewritten to find meaningful relationships. That being the case I no longer subscribed to this grey area of the “friend zone”. It almost began to take the shape of a waiting cell and you could stagnate there for eternity with the only out being a relationship or lost human connection. When you think about it boils down to the loss of human connection at the end regardless but… let’s not get in there yet.
I mean this black-and-white view may not be popular and to be honest, it cuts both sides of the field. Your rejection of my advance does not automatically grant you access to the privileges accorded to one I would call a friend. I know, it is harsh and slightly egotistical — reading this I can see how it sounds — but I still stand by the thought. Friendship is not some compromise to unrequited love. It is not some soft cushion to your rejection of it.
As a man in a world that boasts progressive ideologies but still expects the man to be the first to make the move, I will admit that the effects of the rejections seem to play to one side of the field more than the other. Now, this may be biased as I can only speak from the male perspective and if you have thoughts from the opposite side, I welcome it. This is not a “down with the friend zone” movement. In fact, quite frankly a lot of those who end up in that situation deserve it.
I have in my catalogue, a series of stories of ladies who genuinely sought that friendship and were met with a “means to an end” and had to put that boundary down pat. I’ve also met ladies who use it as a manipulation tactic to get everything out of the guy without giving him the title for all the things he does. It’s a cruel world for any hopeless romantic out here in these streets but take heart. I say if it is not what you wanted, do not just accept it as is. Either reject it or actually find within it the reason to agree to the terms.
I’ve been in the practice of asking people “Do you want to be my friend?” and it has given me this semblance of control over who holds that title in my life. I think it has made that part of my life more stable. Less drama or walking around on eggshells because someone’s feelings were not clear from the jump. Don’t get me wrong, it is pertinent that you share friendship before you share other things (edit: most times) but don’t use it as a clutch and besmirch the title, some of us actually want friends with no ties to anything outside that.
I think the shift in perspective on it might have erased the phrase bit by bit from my vocabulary… to put it Frankly.
