Platonic Soulmates: What Happened to Our Friendships?
A deep dive into what we've lost in our mad pursuit of independence
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Introducing you to a recurring phrase I heard throughout my life from various people.
“You do too much for your friends.”
Here are a few more:
“You expect too much from friendship.”
“You two act like lovers.”
“My mom thinks we’re lesbians.”
“You’re too intense about your friends.”
“Do you have to talk to your best friend every single day?”
Many cultural critics argue that the art of friendship is in decline. The United States surgeon general has named loneliness an epidemic. People are lonelier than ever, and they don’t know what to do about it. Why is that?
Platonic relationships have been central to my life for as long as I can remember. Blood has never been the only thing that defines a family for me; I grew up with three other families with whom mine wove our lives. They are still an integral part of my community.
When my parents immigrated to the U.S. from Taiwan, we lived with one of these families for the first two years of my life. When my father battled leukemia for a significant chunk of my formative years, they were the ones there supporting my brother and me, and when he was diagnosed with cancer again in 2020, they were the ones we called on.
We have a shared history that cannot be replicated. We call each other godfamily—like godparents, except a whole family—and we are there for each other as family would be. I’m closer to them than I am to my blood relatives, who were never there for me during the most turbulent times in my life.
I credit this small village with playing an essential role in how I came through a traumatic childhood (somewhat) functional, and I believe it’s because of these relationships that I came to view friendships as essential rather than optional.
But my experience is unique, unfortunately so, as it shouldn’t be.
Have we lost something in our society?
’s book, The Other Significant Others, examines this very question through a number of case studies and historical examples. She’s also interviewed on the Ezra Klein podcast and by in this post. They discuss some thoughts about why friendship is no longer the center of society as it once was.One of the theories is that people now expect much more out of their romantic partners, who now must fulfill the roles that friends, family, and the immediate community once filled. It’s an interesting notion, but not the full story.
Consider the example of J. R. R. Tolkien and C. S. Lewis, who nurtured deep and rich friendships with each other and others. They also had meaningful relationships with their wives. Tolkien famously based his legendary love story of Beren and Luthien on his wife and himself, and their names are etched on both their gravestones.
But take a look at what Tolkien and his dear friend, Geoffrey Smith, wrote to each other:
“I feel just the same to both of you—nearer if anything and very much in need of you—I am hungry and lonely of course—but I don’t feel a member of a little complete body now.”
—J.R.R. Tolkien, letter to Geoffrey Smith1
“I wish I could find you—I search for you everywhere.”
—Geoffrey Smith, letter to Tolkien
Modern audiences often interpret the way Tolkien depicts male friendships in his books as queer but to do so is to diminish the strength of those bonds, in my opinion. It says more about our contemporary emotional poverty that such deep and intimate platonic relationships are so quickly mistaken for sexual because of their sheer rarity in today’s society.2
Indeed, Rhaina mentions other people in the interview who wrote to their friends with phrases that could be mistaken for letters to lovers by people today. The language is emotionally intense, effusively affectionate—expressed openly and freely.
“This heart of mine, however feeble and how soon soever it may cease to move, its last pulsations shall vibrate for you.”
—Thomas B. Wait, letter to George Thatcher3
As Rhaina says in her book, such unrestrained warmth between men is almost unheard of outside of couplings nowadays.
Women get a bit more leeway here, as it’s more socially acceptable to be both verbally and physically affectionate with each other. But as indicated from one of my opening quotes, even my best friend and I have been mistaken for a couple at one point by our own family members. We have the same philosophy toward friendships, and the equal amount of effort we put into each other has allowed us to flourish for twenty years now, despite only living in the same city for the first three years. My husband and all her previous partners have known we come as a package.4
In contrast, men have a harder time, with the perceived threat of being misconstrued as gay, along with a loss of masculinity.5 Indeed, Rhaina mentions the stigmitisation of homosexuality as a factor in the diminishing centrality of friendship.
What happened to our friendships?
Many others have given their views on the matter that I won’t repeat (see my reading list below), but I have some thoughts on this as well.