It’s going great! This new friendship of yours. You have so much in common—you have the same taste in mostly everything—you love a decent mix of HBO series and 90 Day Fiance, you happen to love a lot of the same authors, you’re in the same group of friends, and you’re planning a big Eurotrip together post-COVID. Things are going pretty well…except for one thing. She’s that friend of yours. Your…dare I say, fitness friend. She will willingly get out of bed on a Sunday morning at 6 AM and run a half marathon. No lie, that’s her, and you always think to yourself, “I’d rather stick with my short dance cardio videos and my undying love for Domino’s, thanks”.
She’s that friend who doesn’t just exercise because it’s a necessity of life, but because she actually enjoys it. You know that runner’s high bullshit? She’s the cult leader of that phenomenon. Meanwhile, you’re here, struggling to get yourself to do cardio four to five times a week…because it just sucks. Okay? It sucks.
But it gets worse. You meet up with her for a nice Italian dinner. You order the fettuccine alfredo, she orders a Caesar salad. You don’t think much of it in the moment… until the dessert menu is brought out to you. Your eye is on what sounds like an absolutely delectable tiramisu… until she calmly says (honestly, now that you think of it, kind of like a serial killer), “Want to share the fruit plate?”
Okay, don’t panic. You can handle this. You’ve overcome childhood traumas, heartbreaking ends to relationships, and two broken ankles. This is nothing, right? Breathe. Take a calm, yet deliberate sip of your water and speak your truth.
“With all due respect, fruit doesn’t count.”
She chuckles and stares at you in surprise.
“Yes, it is! It’s totally reasonable, especially after that alfredo you just had.”
She winks.
Okay, now you know it’s over. It’s been swell, but you don’t need this type of negativity in your life. Let her run away to a different city, for all you care. She can take her toned legs and desire for strawberries (not covered in chocolate) far, far away from here and you.
Maybe you’re being a little dramatic, but we’re going to let you sit in this moment, and not fight it. Be furious, be hurt, be astounded. I validate you, girl.
