Your Best Friend

“Marry your best friend.” How often have we heard, shared or offered this piece of advice? There’s no doubt that marriages that last have a strong element of friendship imbedded deep within. Yes – attraction, passion, respect, delight, common values and above all, Love – are important parts of the magic that makes a lifelong love possible. But friendship – a genuine liking for the other and contentment in their company is, I believe, the foundation of what makes love stay. 

I have been honoured to conduct and co-preside over many interfaith marriages in the course of my ministry and consider them to be powerful role models for how we all might co-exist in this diverse world. The love that can find commonality between different beliefs and religious traditions and knit together people from diverse backgrounds is truly inspiring!   One of the most memorable I was blessed to be a part of was between a young couple with Hindu, Catholic and agnostic traditions and beliefs. Together we crafted a ceremony that included elements of all three and I was honoured (along with the groom’s uncle) to walk with them through the heart of a Hindu wedding – the ritual known as The Seven Steps. 

In this part of the wedding ceremony (considered the most sacred, encompassing the vows) the bride and groom walk seven times around the sacred fire lit at the start of the wedding, each time for a different aspect of marriage. They pledge to nourish one another, they ask for strength and prosperity, promise to join their families, hope for children and good health  but the most important vow is saved for last; “May I be your friend.” It acknowledges that friendship is at the heart of love and affirms friendship as the touchstone of love that lasts. 

There’s no doubt that when we lose our spouse, we have lost many different people. We have lost a husband and perhaps the father of our children; we’ve lost a lover and an intimate companion, we’ve lost our biggest fan and softest place to land, our confidant and co-conspirator, our helpmate and sounding-board, our roommate and housemate, and depending on your division of labour, an incredibly helpful partner in everything you do.  

But for so many of us, we’ve also lost our best friend, the person who sees us, gets us, accepts us, understands us, knows us inside out and amazingly, still genuinely likes and loves us. If you, like me, have known the blessing of this kind of love, the feeling of being known and loved this way does not leave you. Yet when your beloved dies, it’s a true shock to realize that they have taken your best friend with them!  

I think of all the roles that Peter fulfilled in my life, losing my best friend was the hardest one to accept. But over time, I began to really think about who your best friend is and why you value them so much. And I realized that while I couldn’t place that expectation on anyone else, I could promise to treat myself with the same kind of loving, accepting regard that Peter had for me. 

It wasn’t easy at first. I felt inadequate most of the time and unable to rise to the occasion often. A tape started running in my head about how impossible the task at hand was, how overwhelming it felt and how unable I was to face it in my weakened state. I began to feel like not only had I lost half of myself (see ‘Your Other Half’) but that the part that was left over was not up to the job. I would never see myself the way he saw me, with that unconditional positive regard that was the ground in which our love was firmly planted.  

As this negative self-talk started, I thought about what I would say if a friend came to me with similar sentiments. It’s funny, because for many years when a friend was down on themselves after a perceived failure or despairing of ever changing an unhealthy pattern, I would respond in two ways. I would say “Hey, I don’t let anyone put down my friends, even them!” and then I would ask “What would you say to yourself if you were your own best friend and came to you for advice? Would you say “Buck up you snivelling coward, you are weak, you are incompetent, you are a failure and a hot mess!?” Of course you wouldn’t. You would reach out in understanding, compassion and love. 

So how can we learn to do that for ourselves? Thinking it over, I realized that the qualities I truly value in my friendships which were embodied so beautifully in Peter were:

Acceptance               Encouragement               Non-Judgement               Support

When he walked this earth, Peter cared a whole lot about how I was treated; he spent his waking hours caring for me and nothing made him angrier than if I wasn’t treated right. So to treat myself with any less love and care would be a repudiation of everything he believed.    

Loving yourself with the same combination of gentle acceptance and fierce loyalty that a best friend has for you takes time and practice. And while you’ll always miss the best friend that was embodied in your spouse, loving yourself with the same compassion, understanding, acceptance, and true friendship that they showed you is a beautiful way to keep their love alive. It’s also a great way to honour the strength and wisdom you’ve grown along the way.