Lasting Friendships
As I stepped onto the GSB campus last September, I was immediately transported two decades back to the hot blacktop playground in front of my elementary school. It was the first day of school and first graders lined up before entering the building for our assembly. My too big backpack was weighing me down, the straps digging into my shoulders. Some kindergarteners had started to cry. But the starkest memory of that day was the girl two heads ahead of me, bouncing up and down, her curly hair pinned up by two barrettes. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but I saw her talking with two other girls who would soon be in my class. I vividly remember this moment, as it was the first time I consciously decided I wanted to be friends with someone.
I’m shy, and the uncertainty of meeting people and developing friendships has never been something I looked forward to. The first friend I made wasn’t even of my own doing. Instead, I had complained to my older sister about how I wanted to be friends with a girl in our neighborhood. I remember watching in awe, and honestly some horror, as my much more gregarious older sister walked up to this girl and demanded that she play with us and be “my best friend.” While over time I have gotten over most of my shyness, for some reason that fear and uncertainty I felt on the playground blacktop hit me once more as I set foot on the GSB campus. I had clearly made friends throughout my life. Why was this time, at the GSB, so important?
I came to the GSB telling myself that one of my goals was to leave with a few “close” friends. I know that I am not alone in this pursuit. As an Arbuckle Fellow, I’ve heard countless MBA1s share this desire to build close friendships. I’ve had similar conversations with classmates about finding community.
As my time comes to an end here, I’ve noticed two main reasons why finding close friends was one of my goals, and more importantly, why so many others shared it. The first is merely expectations from alumni and others who have been to business school. Before accepting my business school offer, I spoke with several alumni who mentioned that business school was where they found their lifelong friendships. The second reason, at least for me, is to partly justify putting my career on hold. Thinking about the potential financial loss of business school doesn’t feel as daunting if I think about the deep connections and best friends I could make during the program.
While both of those reasons are definitely a factor, I’ve also realized there’s an underlying deeper desire for connection — a nagging friendship “itch” that I’m trying to scratch.
I’m not sure where this itch originated. Part of it, I’m sure, is my own fears around the bonds I’ve made. I’ve traveled with people, shared meals, discussed hopes, dreams and heartbreaks. Arguably, my relationships have been on the “friendship fast-track” compared with other times in my life. Yet, I still feel like that shy 6-year old on the playground blacktop, unsure of her place. I worry that the proximity and the pressure to have a full social life has pushed me and others around me into forming multiple quasi-friendships. I worry that I’ve made friends, but have failed to make friendships.
I’ve grown to realize just how much I’ve taken my friendships for granted. In my romantic relationships, I’ve always been clear about my intentions, my wants, my needs. The same has not existed in my platonic relationships. In fact, no matter how big my friend “crush.” I’ve kept my feelings of admiration and respect to myself. I have not intentionally nurtured these friendships, despite knowing how meaningful friendships are for feeling love and a sense of fulfillment. These last quarters, I’ve started to turn this reflection into action: by co-hosting murder mystery dinners, going out for ice cream, having craft nights, or even just sitting on Manzanita and sharing a bottle of wine. There are so many tiny ways I’ve sought to enhance my friendships.
In summary, there are two things I will take away with me:
1. Nurture the connections
I often gripe about how the GSB has made me soft. While, in the past, I would not have been the first person to voice my affection, I now make it clear to those closest to me how I feel about our connections and my desire to remain friends after this crazy experience. I recognize the importance of openly addressing my needs in my friendships and making explicit ways to nurture the relationship with people I enjoy. While my friends were, rightfully, shocked at my Touchy Feely approach, I imagine, and hope, honesty will better serve the relationship in the long term. Every time I’ve addressed it, I’ve been met with positive reactions.
Tell your friends you love them. Follow-up with your friend crushes. Reach out to people you think you’d connect with. Be shameless.
2. Embrace the weak ties
As an introvert, I typically aim for two or three close friends and focus all my energy into building those relationships. Touchy Feely exposed me to the concept of “building a bridge” with individuals. I had never inherently assumed that I had a bridge, or connection, with someone. It would take me years to even consider the connection to be strong enough to invest in it. However, in these two years, I’ve loosened my definition of friendship and I’ve come to realize that I can still be “friends” with someone I only see every couple of weeks.
It may sound borderline psychotic to have different levels or types of friendships, but it also relieves the pressure off of myself to fully immerse myself in each and every relationship.
These takeaways will be even more crucial as I leave GSB behind and everyone moves off to different cities. While they may not be a one size fits all approach, they serve as a good reminder that with effort and intention I can create lasting friendships.
Editor: Teresa Chen
