The beauty of childhood friendships

celebrating 25 years of friendship

There are only a handful of birthdays I consistently remember year after year, and Rebekah’s is one of them. I don’t even always remember my mom’s birthday (and pay dearly for it) but there’s something about best friends that just hits different in my psyche.

1998- I had just moved to Texas from upstate New York. Our dads introduced us at temple, and we immediately bonded over our shared (though differently spelled) first names. “That’s my name too!” She had vivacious, big energy.

Her extroverted flair and unabashed confidence contrasted with my shyness and insecurity disguised as humor and goofiness. But together we conquered our little world. She was the center of attention in any social circle, and flaunted her personality any time the opportunity presented itself, while I watched with awe, admiration, and a little jealousy from the periphery. We were opposite in a lot of ways. She was vanilla, I was chocolate. She was cats, I was dogs. She was Christina, I was Britney. But still, our countless sleepovers at her house and mine are some of my fondest memories of adolescence. God knows what we did all day and night in that era before driving and technology. But there was a lot of laughing. I remember the laughing. We were always getting in trouble for talking too much and our antics at religious functions, often separated by the rabbi.

Following her lead I started going to summer camp, and immediately loved it. We had separate friends but always made our way back to each other. I never felt abandoned by her or left behind. One summer my dad wrote me a letter towards the end of camp saying when he picked me up he was taking both of us to Schlitterbahn, an EPIC water park in Texas- we were beside ourselves. I vividly remember jumping up and down and screaming with her in our cabin.

She was there for every birthday, every weekend hang out, every sleepover, every boring religious function (made more fun with her) and even my first time getting high and drunk during spring break.

(Side note: my senior economics teacher singled me out and asked me to tell the class about my spring break- and I told the story of this night, getting blacked out and waking up several times, each time in a different place and with less clothes on. I thought it was kind of a lame story but the entire class was laughing and thought I was living some double life as a wild and crazy party animal, when really it was just 4 girls in Rebekah’s backyard.)

And of course, we are trauma bonded for life after seeing the movie Thirteen AT 13 together.

Suffice to say, she was my first true best friend.

When we were 18, after a decade-long reign of BFF closeness, we embarked on our next adventure. A 9-month study abroad program in Israel, with dozens of other kids our age from all over the country. I had no idea what to expect, but in the first few weeks found myself hanging with a new friend. We got on like a house on fire. Our friendship was fast and intense, cemented by a shared desire to have as much fun as humanly possible while in these unique circumstances (teenagers dropped off in the Middle East- lord have mercy.) We were fire and air, a synergy that couldn’t be contained or controlled, even by us.

It was the first time I’d experienced “growing apart”, an uncomfortable transition that I dealt with by ignoring and sweeping under the rug. If you don’t talk about it, it doesn’t exist, right? Rebekah messaged me on Facebook, playfully at first then with candid vulnerability, “Are we still best friends?” She mentioned the shift. I denied it, and reassured her.

Communication is not a teenager’s strong suit.

Rebekah had plenty of friends and I took comfort in that while I continued galavanting around the country in ever more reckless shenanigans with my new friend.

After Israel we continued on with our lives in different directions. I entered my 20’s and went down some questionable paths. College was a joke, something I did more or less to pass the time, because I didn’t know what else to do with myself, whereas Rebekah was hard working and had a clear path in mind towards her passion. Again, opposites.

But we never lost contact. No falling out, no bad blood. Every time I saw or spoke with her, she was her usual bubbly, outgoing self. Her life took an interesting direction, both romantically and professionally, and it was always nice to catch up. My 20’s was a blur of “what the fuck” that I’m happy to be on the other side of, and now in my 30’s can look back at our friendship with deep fondness and appreciation.

As I’ve gotten older I see and value people for their character- and Rebekah’s is of the highest caliber. Fiercely independent, whip smart, talented as hell, and still the first person on the dance floor. She doesn’t just start the party, she IS the party, and can still rock a backless dress or booty shorts, whatever she’s wearing these days to bust it down.

Beautiful, in every sense of the word.

Love you forever, and look forward to the next 25 years of friendship.