Girls and friendship, or what could have been

I have spoken before about Ava’s struggle with friends over the past years, having lost some good ones, who moved away when she was very young, and these days, keeping most people at arm’s length. Mostly, she’s content on her own, but like any parent, I worry: I want her to be popular, or at least liked; to have at one good friend she can turn to in times of crises, or even just someone she can count on who isn’t her brother. And as she gets older and leggier, the boys who were her playmates in nursery grow shorter each time, on our semi-annual catch ups, and sleepovers increasingly feel less appropriate, however gender blind we all try to be.

Recently, her tomboyish cousin has provided likeminded company now the age gap – three years – is narrowing; but getting them together isn’t always easy. My sister lives away and works overtime in corporate purgatory, while her other half is always tasked with some building project or other, so they rarely have time to hang around if they come and visit.

So kitsy Ava’s been in friend limbo; she goofs around with a girl at school who’s similar in temperament if nothing much else, and has people she plays with at after school club but no one special. There are rarely invites, and when I go the extra mile and ask someone over, it’s often unreciprocated. It’s not that Ava’s not nice or fun to be around- she plays slightly young for her age – no tweenage crushes or experiments with makeup or pop music for her. She’s still, as she always was, happiest curled up in a ball somewhere comfy, watching videos on YouTube – and I guess this, if nothing else, makes her typical of her generation. But modern life makes it harder to find friends without us adults putting in much of the legwork.

I guess my concern with friends is something I carry over from my own experiences growing up – and as an adult- making and losing them. From the the little boy from my mother’s antenatal group who I played with as a toddler who shunned me as soon as we got to primary school, to the teenage girl crush who listened to Green Day with me, and lost our virginities, rebelling with first boyfriends aged 15 3/4, whose father banned me from seeing her because I was “troubled”, I have a knack for losing friends. I’ve had a bull run, recently too: the mum friend from my own antenatal group whose daughter used to adore my son, dumped me by text after I became depressed when Tom lost his job when Ava was small; both my bridesmaids, spectacularly, at one of their weddings after a row with Tom erupted, provoked in part because she’d left me out of the ceremony; the other didn’t even invite me to hers. I saw it coming- we’ve not spoken much in years, but it stung all the same when I saw it all on Facebook.

I may have picked up close friends at every workplace I’ve been it (but not before managing to alienate anyone I’ve ever worked under) yet I’ve resigned myself to not having an intense relationship with someone of the same gender (though I have plenty of female acquaintances I see infrequently when life allows, and perhaps that’s all I want these days). But we all need allies; and sometimes it feels as though the people I see more regularly don’t always have my back. In an era where popularity is measured in thumbs ups on social media, it’s telling that most of my posts are liked by the same four people – Tom, my old cleaner, my sister and one of her friends from school. Friends are a sore point for me, because I’m just no good at them. And it’s caused so much pain over the years, I’d do anything to save my own kids from feeling the same anguish and rejection.

So trying to work with Ava on her friendships is something I’ve prioritised, but given how clueless I apparently am, it’s hard to tell whether I’m going about it the right way. Arguably, friendship shouldn’t be something you have to work on anyway. It should just be something that just happens. In the old days, your friends would be whoever lived down the road. But in this day and age, social inequality in the playground makes it harder to find likeminded peers, and organising playdates with people who don’t go to the same school is not always that simple when everyone’s always so busy.

Years ago, when Ava was young, we met a couple with a baby born the same month who lived up the road. Oh, I said, naively, they’ll be in the same year at school. How nice. I befriended the mother and the girls got on, but despite living in the catchment for the excellent local primary, she went to the private school up the road; and Ava lost her chance of the lifelong friend I’d always wanted for her- but mainly for myself.

Time moved on, but the girls are still similar. They both love animals and present as a little shy. I’ve made an effort to keep in touch with the mother, and on the rare occasions we’ve managed to get the girls together, they’ve got on like a house on fire (and perhaps not being in the same class together avoids the politics of the playground). So, this half term, I set up a play date with the daughter, and two peas in a pod, the girls played together as old friends.

There is another chance for them. The mother wants her daughter to go to the expensive, highly academic private school in the City at secondary. Ava’s bright enough but we haven’t pushed her, and though we could afford it, (just) we feel the competitive ethos may not be best. But there’s another school up the road. It’s a strict academy- the bad press it has about detentions and uniform mean neither girl is keen to go, but their diligent, dutiful natures mean both girls would likely thrive there.

One good friend means so much at Secondary. It’s turned things around for Jonah (who’s spent much of half term working on a homework project with his mate from secondary). But I worry that Ava will struggle in that school, with its high Bangladeshi population and social housing intake, the odds are that Ava will struggle to find someone like herself – and human nature dictates that’s what most of us want from a friend.

Is it wrong to hope that fate plays a hand and brings these two girls, who have so much in common, together for their formative years? I don’t know. But (and I don’t do this often) I’m praying that Ava manages to keep a good friend for longer than I’m able to. And at the moment, I see this as her best shot at lifelong friendship – but then, what would I know, anyway?