November 2017, Red Online

If I’d known the word ‘synchronicity’ growing up, I would have loved it. There was a word that perfectly described exactly what my friends and I were aiming for: the kind of lives you see play out in American sitcoms, ones that were completely entwined and entirely in-sync. For the most part, we managed it.

It’s easy to map out your life when you’re a child. Sure, you might be an astronaut or a lawyer, but more importantly, you’re going to do whatever your best friend does at exactly the same time. You’ll fall in love at the same time (preferably to best friends), get married at the same time (if you can orchestrate a joint wedding, more’s the better), live in adjoining houses and have kids who will then grow up together and repeat the cycle. We weren’t any different. When my best friend started her period, I diligently checked my own knickers for the next two years in anticipation, so anxious was I at the thought of being left behind. In return, she waited for me to lose my virginity before she slept with her own boyfriend for the first time a week later, going ahead only once I’d given her the all clear. We were chronically in step.

But now that we’re older, our paths aren’t quite so closely aligned. She met her partner in her early 20s, while I was still torturously throwing myself at anyone that could strum a guitar chord while ignoring me. They now have two children and a lovely home together, while the rest of us are still child-free. Meanwhile, I’ve managed to get a mortgage and get married, while most of those closest to me are either single or navigating new relationships, focusing on building their careers and spending their free time and cash travelling. We are hopelessly out of step. And I’ve realised that that’s ok.

So much of forging friendships comes down to the things you have in common, but as I get older, I’m realising how much synchronicity is entirely overrated. The people I get the most from in my life are rarely the ones that reflect my own life back at me and it would be horribly limiting if they did. I know that we will each reach our own milestones at our own speed and in our own time (or perhaps, in some cases, not at all) and that is good enough. In the meantime, it’s comforting to know that should I decide to plan a solo road trip through America, climb a mountain for the first time or open my own business, I have a group of women who have already done exactly that to look to for advice and inspiration. And that one day, I might be able to do the same for them with my own experiences.

Of course it can be lonely facing life-changing decisions that your friends have yet to make and can’t relate to—something I become starkly aware of every time someone mentions teething problems or a baby that won’t sleep through the night. In turn, I’ve questioned my path while feeling pangs of jealousy over other friends’ freedoms. (I’m going to apologise now for every time I’ve grabbed a phone and begged to look at Tinder.) But it can also be liberating to venture out into unchartered territory, with the space to work out what’s right for you in that moment, away from the pressure of others’ choices.

In the 12 years since we left school and our days of living perfectly in step behind, we have been through more joy and heartache than I could have

imagined possible. There have been graduations and promotions, break ups and engagements, the loss of parents and the arrival of offspring and precisely none of these things have happened at the same time, or when any of us thought they would. We have come together each time to celebrate successes when they happen and console each other over every loss. We are here for each other for all of it, whether or not we have the first hand experience to truly understand what we are each going through in that moment. Those 12 years have also brought with them the welcome realisation that our friendshipsare based on more than our shared milestones.

Don’t get me wrong, even now I am not above clutching a friend’s hands and enthusiastically imagining some Friends like existence when we all live out our days three feet apart across a shared hallway. But at least I do know now that our friendships aren’t suffering for lives spent out of sync; if anything, it just makes us stronger as a group.

We might be out of step, but we’ll never step out of each others’ lives.