platonic affair
the real love stories of my life and why men will always come second
When my best friend Emily gave me Orion Carloto’s Film for Her for Christmas in 2023, I thought, “How perfectly on-brand.” Emily has a knack for gifts that feel like extensions of herself. This one came adorned with a sticky note on page 90 (her signature love language): “Couldn’t have summed it up better myself. I love you Liv,” she wrote, complete with a heart and a doodled flower. I opened it, read the passage, and immediately wanted to tattoo it on my soul.
Carloto’s ode to platonic love hit me like a glass of wine shared between girlfriends—warm, dizzying, and so perfectly calibrated to my emotional state. She wrote of friends like they were the romances we’ve all been conditioned to seek but never expect to find in anything but a man. It felt revolutionary, and it made me realize: no man will ever be the love of my life. My friends already are.
Let’s be clear. This isn’t some desperate pivot because my love life resembles a desert during a drought. No, this is me acknowledging that there is something inherently superior—dare I say celestial—about the love between women. It’s the kind of love that’s forged in the trenches of late-night phone calls and wine-fueled dissections of “what he really meant by that text.” It’s an unspoken understanding that you’re both just two feral raccoons masquerading as functioning adults, and yet you’d kill for each other.
When I think of Emily, I don’t just think of her stellar ability to highlight life with the perfect sticky note. I think of the time we sat on the beach together in San Diego, eating sandwiches she so delicately packed for us in her lunchbox, talking about everything from work to politics to sex. She gets me completely unfiltered, and I get her.
Men, bless them, have their moments. They’re good for lifting heavy things and helping me reach for items on the top shelf, but let’s face it: they can’t compete with the sheer breadth and depth of female friendship. A man might text you “wyd,” but a woman will text you “just checking in” with a heart emoji and then actually listen to your response. A man might bring you flowers after an argument, but your girlfriend will know you don’t even really like roses, especially not red ones, and bring you tulips instead. In my experience, it’s not even a competition; it’s an entirely different league.
Carloto’s words ring in my head as I think about my friends: "My soulmates are platonic, or at least it feels that way." These women are "matching tattoos and secrets never said out loud." They are “the kind of friendship you only see written in script," and my youth, my energy, my heart—all of it—is devoted to them. Deservingly so.
Jane Fonda once said, "Women's friendships are like a renewable source of power." And she’s absolutely right. My friendships fuel me in ways I’ll never fully understand but will forever be grateful for. They are the foundation of everything I am and hope to be.
Platonic love is the kind that holds your hand through every bad haircut, ugly cry, and existential crisis. It’s the love that says, “No, you’re not being crazy” when you know full well you’re being crazy. It’s the love that bookmarks page 90 with a sticky note just to remind you that you’re loved.
I’ve come to terms with the fact that no man will ever hold a candle to my friends. And why should he? They’re the ones who know me inside out, who’ve seen me at my absolute worst and still love me with the kind of fierce loyalty that poets have tried and failed to put into words for centuries. They’re the ones who’ll dance with me at my wedding, cry with me at my divorce (if it comes to that), and eat cookie dough on my kitchen counter long after the romance has fizzled.
Emily and every woman I’ve ever called my friend: you are my soulmates. Men will come and go, but your sticky notes are forever.
xo,
liv
P.S. For the record, if I ever do find a man who makes me feel the way my friends do, I’ll marry him. But let’s not hold our breath.
Not me just reading through so many of your posts and being captivated by every word! You have a giftttt
You’re a very strong woman. There is an old saying “ You have your head screwed on right”. Really, you do.