So people have asked me in some emails who’s my best friend. Over the years you have read my stories with Alice and Eric and Marc and Adelina and Kelly and Kerry and Bertrand. Which one of them is my best friend? A smart question I got once was who’s the best friend. Not “my” best friend, but “the” best friend, as in a great person with the right qualities, with the best friendship skills, regardless of being my best friend. Such as…
Somebody that you can unload all your secrets to. And you can be sure that not only they wont be on the Wall Street Journal or Hello cover for that matter, but they won’t travel to anybody else, period. You know how it works right? You tell your secret about that accidental poisoning of your boss to one best friend and they tell it to another best friend, and that other best best friend to their best friend and the word of mouth goes on. Before you know it, the police is at your doorstep blaming you for bringing arsenic to the office and placing it next to sugar.
Somebody that encourages you to take risks, to be crazy. You know you want to do it. But you need a second opinion. A second opinion that if it goes in a question on SurveyMonkey, 90% will say no, don’t do it. But the right friend will boost your confidence to get out of your comfort zone and do it! Yes, they are the only ones that believe that following that guy you met 17 minutes ago to a weekend in Sevilla is a brilliant idea.
Somebody who will actually be your partner in crime for the craziest things. Time together equals crazy fun equals unforgettable memories equals lots of stories to be told. I don’t need to say more. You two know what I am talking about.
Somebody who’s there for you when the going gets tough. He/she will listen; what you say and what you don’t say. He/she will hug you. Yes, a hug is all it takes at times. And finally she/he will cheer you up (maybe). But all this in your way. Not their way. In the way you need it. No precooked remedies. Yes, I appreciated the friend who let me mourn my loss and could tolerate my tears, not stressing a smile out my lips. It would come eventually, but it would take time. And that was \OK for my friend.
Somebody who doesn’t judge you. Listen and don’t judge. Just listen. Admit it, it is hard. To listen and not judge. I am not good at it. Dating a married guy goes beyond my ability to be a non-judgmental friend. I will judge, but still love my friend. But I count on my friend to be NOT like me if I ever date a married guy. Yes, I am a very nice person with double standards. NOT.
Somebody who inspires me to be a better person. You know, to do all the good things. Not stay away from the bad things. But do the good things on top. From eating healthy and exercising, to saving and investing, to volunteering and to helping the ones in need. I need that kind of role modeling close to me. Donald Trump or Kim Kardashian alone do not do the trick enough for me.
Somebody I can trust for their objective, unbiased opinion. Having in mind only what’s good for me. No agendas. No personal interests. It was a my best friend that motivated me to move and come to Geneva, despite the huge loss my move would be for her. I know she was shattered for months after I left. But she wanted the best for me. Now that I am thinking about this, I feel like yelling at her. What was she thinking?!?!?!?!
Now send it to your besties and ask them what they choose. I bet your next coffee or drinks will be interesting…