My mum had told me something when I was younger. She’d said to me,
“The best kind of friendship is when it involves just two people. More than two, and it’s a crowd. It never works.”
I didn’t used to get it. Not that I didn’t believe her, I just didn’t get it. But after experiencing it myself, twice, I think I understand now.
Friendship between two people is... safe. It’s secure. There’s this strong link built on loyalty, honesty, trust. Whatever we say, whatever we feel, it stays between us. And yeah, we can have other friends. It’s just... nobody really comes close to us, to our bond.
But friendship in threes? There’s always tension somewhere. Gossips, backbiting, fake energies, invisible competitions, tiny insecurities, all that drama that just never really shows up in two-person friendships.
Now, I won’t sit here and act like I’ve always been the friend who hated gossip. I didn’t. I used to think it was just normal girl talk. You know, hang out, sip a drink, laugh about someone else’s shoes. But somewhere along the line, it started to feel... pathetic. Miserable even. Like, who exactly am I becoming?
Making friends has never been hard for me. I’m naturally bubbly and relatable, so in school, everyone was my friend. But keeping friendships? Ha. That’s where it got tricky. I didn’t even like the whole “bestie” concept until uni. And even then, it was a mess.
We were three girls. And exactly as my mum warned, everything just… spiraled. Miss A would come to me to gossip about Miss B. Then Miss B would go to Miss A to gossip about me. The day I decided I didn’t want to be that girl anymore, the one who sat around laughing at people’s misfortunes, I noticed something: I just didn’t find their jokes funny anymore. I couldn’t relate. And naturally, when you stop feeding the gossip machine, you just... fade out. I walked away.
Funny thing is, I thought they’d also fall out with each other. After all, they’d both been talking trash behind each other’s backs for months. But nope, they’re still friends. And that told me something: they’ve chosen to keep gossiping about others instead of confronting the things they don’t like about each other.
Fast-forward to NYSC. Same story, different setting. Another friendship of three. This time, I wasn’t surprised. Disappointed? Of course. But shocked? Not even a little.
I’d gone out of my way to celebrate Miss A’s birthday, photoshoot, gifts, party. Everything. But when mine came? Crickets. They had excuses, sure. But the energy? It wasn’t there.
Then Miss B did something really foul. She never apologized, never brought it up. So I distanced myself. Miss A? She never asked what happened. And I know they talked about it between themselves. I know.
One thing I’ve come to understand is: in a trio, if you have a fallout with one of the girls and the third person doesn’t even try to check on you or mediate, you’re not their friend. You’re the third wheel in their friendship.
Once upon a time, that would’ve broken me. I would’ve sat down wondering what I did wrong, overanalyzing every little word, every emoji. But now? No. I communicate. But I also know when communication is pointless. If I’m the one hurt, and you know it, and you also know I would never go months without texting you, and still, you don’t check in? You were never my friend to begin with.
And why should I beg someone to talk to me? Why try to revive something you didn't even value? So yes, I walked away, again. And this time, I didn't carry guilt with me.
And this, this is where minimalism plays a part for me. People think minimalism is just about owning less stuff. Nah. I’ve applied it to friendships. If it’s no longer serving peace, clarity, growth....delete. Quietly. With no drama.
That doesn’t mean I’m cold or unforgiving. If I run into them and they smile, I’ll say hi. I won’t fake snub anyone. But I’m not keeping your number on my phone, hoping you’ll text. I’m not saving space in my heart for someone who already left.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I’ve seen friendships in threes that work. I have one. My childhood girls and I, been together since primary school. And we’re three. But it works because the bond isn’t two against one. When two of us are closer at a time, we’re always excited when the third returns. Our bond rotates. If one of us messes up, we’ll discuss it privately, but we’ll also confront it face-to-face.
There’s honesty. There’s mutual love. There’s growth. That’s what makes it work.
So, does minimalism challenge friendships? Yes. It forces one to evaluate their emotional capacity and energies. It makes you walk away from “almost-friendships” and opt for fewer but deeper connections. It can feel lonely. But it can also save you from years of fake laughter and silent hurts.
If my minimalism in friendship means less people? Then that's fine by me. That's more intentional. Because the older I get, the less tolerance I have for fake bonds, half-friendships, and being the third wheel in a party I didn’t even RSVP to.
In response to KISS BLOG IDEAS: WEEK #171
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