An Ode to Articles Club

How reading three articles once a month taught me to be a friend

I used to tell people I was bad at friendship.

It was self-deprecating, but it was also true. Other than my sister,¹ there’s no one I can point to and say: “We’ve been friends since childhood.” I don’t talk to anyone I went to high school with. I’m in regular contact with just one person from my college days.

I used to feel deep shame about this. What kind of weirdo can’t keep a friendship alive for more than a few years? Was there something wrong with me?

I know now that there wasn’t — but there also was. I’m intensely introverted and didn’t learn how to balance my need for solitude with a social life until my late 20s. When friendship circumstances changed in a benign way (college ended, one of us moved), I didn’t know how to maintain the relationship without coming across as overeager or a try hard.

In my early 20s, I had two emotional friendships where I was treated (/let myself be treated) as a therapist and/or doormat instead of a friend.² I had to “break up” with both of those friends, and honestly, those endings were harder than the endings of some of my romantic relationships.

2023 clurb anniversary.

And then I joined articles club.³

More accurately, I joined articles club, committed to going (almost) every month for literal years, moved away but stayed in touch with the girls via the pandemic-led creation of our text thread, moved back … and figured out the secret of friendship.

It is, on that person’s birthday, telling them what you say when you describe them to other people. “I love her because” becomes “I love you because.”

It is gassing her up over something as mundane as a post-haircut selfie.

It is being there when she’s having a miscarriage. Going through infertility, for years. Fostering a child. Getting in a car wreck. Starting a business. Changing jobs. Getting the bad health news. Grieving a death.

It is telling her about the new book, movie, podcast, lipstick, pair of jeans, recipe, artist, store you think she’d like.

And — the secret sauce that I didn’t understand or didn’t want to understand or didn’t have the emotional wherewithal to understand until recently — it is letting her do that for you.

When I was teaching, if I said something I wanted my kids to remember, I’d pause and say, “That’s important. I’m going to say it again in case you didn’t hear me the first time.”

It is letting her do that FOR YOU.

That is the magic of articles club.

I think the art direction was “turn and laugh.” Worked well, as you can see.

It is Libby working a perfect pun into casual conversation. It is Ginna’s wisdom. It is Bethany’s dry humor. It is Julia saying the thing we’re all thinking. It is Kelly being the most interesting person in the room. It is Adelyn giving us the best style advice. It is Sophia’s laugh. It is Chelsey giving us the backstory on all the pop culture rabbit holes. It is Stephanie creating the beautiful atmosphere. It is Emily asking the next question. It is Laue waving her napkin over her head when someone makes a particularly exciting point.

It is the articles we’ve read that have let us have every conversation under the sun.

But it is also the unspoken commitment we’ve made to each other, individually and as a group: I’m here. I’m listening. I love you. I’ll let you love me.

We celebrate nine years of club tomorrow night. I’ve been lucky enough to be a part of it for eight of them.

And I hope, years from now, I can point to these girls and say: “There they are!”

“Those are my lifelong friends.”

1. A blood relation! She has to love me. Does that even count?

2. I was vaguely describing one of these friendships to an acquaintance once, and he said, “That sounds like a relation-shit.” ASTUTE.

3. I also met a few lifelong friends at a job in 2018 — love you, Sam and Annie — but articles club came first.