Friends Trying to be Lovers

When awkwardness invades a great friendship

I hate it. Every time.

I have to say something, and it’s going to make me sound arrogant—but it doesn’t feel arrogant to me. It just feels like the truth of my experience.

I think I’m a nice person. I try really hard to be kind to people. And if I think someone will be a good friend, I go all in.

My motto has always been that lovers can come and go, but friends are for life.

Friendship is so important—across all genders, all ages, throughout your whole life. Friends are our support system, our community. They’re the people we share our lives with.

For me, even love starts as friendship and moves slowly. As a heterosexual cis woman, when it comes to my male friends, unless I want something more, and they’re single and might be interested, I don’t flirt. I don’t wear overly provocative clothing. I don’t say anything suggestive. I do this out of respect. But I also don’t let myself miss out on great friendships, because life is too damn short. When you meet a unicorn, you be friends. And when someone is in a relationship, I’m especially mindful—I constantly check in with my boundaries, which are often different from my single friends’, to ensure I’m completely respectful.

I like to think I’m fun. I go all in. I’m not into shallow interactions. When I hang out with someone, we do activities we both enjoy—snorkelling, surfing, bodysurfing, whatever. I grew up with a big brother in a coastal area, so I love the outdoors. I love animals. I love nature. I’m physically active, and sharing that with others is one of—if not the—happiest things in my life. I open up, I share myself, I make my friends feel accepted, respected, and supported, because that’s what genuine friendship is. And I’m here for it.

Maybe it’s the sensitive person in me, the way I was raised, or just the way my brain works, but I get along well with both men and women. I’m not particularly into “girly” things—never have been. I’m awkward with makeup and hair, and I can’t wear high heels.

If someone is kind, growth-oriented, fun, and enjoys the same activities I do, I don’t care what’s going on downstairs when it comes to friendship—we’ll get along just fine.

But here’s the problem: people can fall in love with this friend mode. They think, You’re fun and funny. You’re a nice person. You’re single. I love you. They don’t say it, but you can feel it and see it. And then—out of nowhere—they start trying to make a move. No conversation. No explanation. Nothing I’ve done to suggest I want to change the tone of the relationship. They just… start testing things physically.

You know how it goes: putting an arm around you as a “mate” (but it’s not really), touching your arm more often, leaning in too close, standing in your space.

It’s uncomfortable. And as the recipient of this sudden, unwanted shift, it’s not always easy to say something in the moment. When it comes out of nowhere, it’s awkward.

Now, on the rare occasion that you do feel the same way, maybe it’s great—maybe it’s a relief, the best day of your life, the start of something amazing. But who’s to know? And when you don’t feel the same way, it’s a disaster.

It breaks my heart every time. Once it’s done, it can’t be taken back. And it makes me so angry when a friend behaves this way. Then I feel bad for rejecting them because I hate hurting people. I hate losing friendships, especially when you’re genuinely excited about this person that you really care about and respect.

And now, because they acted like a 16-year-old—or took advice from some clueless mate (“Yeah, bro, shoot your shot, sounds like she likes you”)—or listened to some garbage influencer on social media, we have to have the conversation. And if you don’t address it, the friendship never recovers.

So, can we do better?

If you’re one of those idiots who thinks men and women can’t be friends, I’m not interested in hearing from you.

But here’s the deal: If you like your friend, and they haven’t clearly told you they like you back, they just want to be friends. Accept it. It doesn’t matter how much you like them. And don’t be a jerk about it if they don’t want more. Just be their friend.

And if you’re genuinely unsure, sit them down—at an appropriate time and place—and have an actual conversation. Don’t ruin it with some awkward, out-of-nowhere physical advance. Because if you do, you’ll make someone you care about feel uncomfortable and hurt. And you’ll feel like a complete idiot.

And somehow, you’ll both have to figure out how to move forward from that.

Claro?

• Chat GPT was used in this post to make minimal refinements to punctuation, grammar and coherence only.