Kissing Your Best Friend

Down the pub and over a pint a friend was recounting how after a recent drunken night out with her best-mate they’d ended up snogging.  Laughing about it she goes on to tell me, “but we quickly realised that no, there was nothing there.  It’s OK though”, she goes on in response to my worried expression about her friendship, “we’ve just put it in the past and forgotten about it”. 

It’s not an unfamiliar tale and one that most lesbians have experience of, usually from a night out and with varying outcomes and consequences.  

I’ve kissed my best mate. It was during a messy drunken game of ‘Truth or Dare’ with a bunch of girlz that we knew. Nearly everyone had kissed someone during the game and kissing my best mate was the easier option when it came to my turn.  “Urghhhh” my mate squeals as we lock lips. “It’s like kissing my sister!” 

We put it down to an experience we didn’t need to repeat; just like my friend I was now in the pub with had.  I’ve never known anyone to lose their best mate over a drunken kiss unless it was a straight girl or their kiss led to a drunken something else that’s harder to‘forget’. 

It can also lead to a ‘complicated’ relationship. You are such great mates, you have fun times, you share everything, you have a connection, know each other better than anyone else... it seems logical to get it together, you practically are anyway!

But love has a funny way of changing things. Who we are with our mates is not who we are in relationships. Suddenly there are boundaries that were previously not there as certain behaviours that were acceptable as friends are not acceptable as a couple. It now feels like a nagging relationship as you re-adjust to being together in a new way whilst your best friend may seem like someone who has gone from your life.  

Kissing your best-mate may seem like a good idea when intoxicated, but the outcome could well turn out to be your worst hangover.  

Losing Friendships When THEY Gain Lovers

We were like the three musketeers with a quest that involved misadventure and women, just like in the story. Together we too had duelled, had love interests and affairs, consoled and had to rescue each other from many a messy situation.

We pub crawled, partied, clubbed and discoed together nearly every week, Thurs-gay night, Friday night and often Saturday night too. We made the effort to go to any sporadic women-only events that were on, even if they weren’t to our own taste. 

At times we’d be in side-splitting laughter as we commiserated, more often than not on another diabolical night out, whilst at other times we went home feeling more depressed and frustrated than when the evening began, at a loss to why it felt like we were the only ones out plus a handful of the same few familiar faces propping up the same bars. 

“Susan, promise me that when I get in a relationship, tell me if I turn into one of those lesbians that disappear, forget they have friends, never go out and are inseparable from their partner in the cave. I never want to be like that!”