I'll be there for you...or not

There was an article in Grazia recently (I know, I know) about being single. How you are left out of 'couply' weekends and how others view you with suspicion. How single people living alone spend, on average, an extra £5K per year. How there is a general perception that being in ANY relationship is better than being in no relationship. *yawn*. Honestly, these things kind of bore me. As a responsible adult, I am quite capable of living alone, making friends with people who invite me on their weekends regardless of my relationship status. Or am I?

I moved back to my hometown at the age of 26. Up until then I had lived in my beloved university city, blissfully happy and with no plans to ever leave. I would get married there, my kids would grow up there and I would grow old there. It wasn't just my city though. It was mine and ex1's city. We grew up there together. We moved from student halls to student houses to slightly nicer places and finally a lovely home there together. When we split up, things suddenly felt bittersweet. I needed a change. I started to spend more time back home with my folks and one of my best friends from school. The only one who'd stayed. Various things made me return. On a particularly boozy night out, I met ex2. The job I had once loved had become a chain around my neck. I missed my family. So I did a moonlit flit. It was unnerving at first but felt exciting, fresh, a new start. My best friend happened to meet ex2's close friend that same night and everything fell into place. I had a ready made friendship group. All 11 of us.

Do you watch Friends? That was us. A big love in to the exclusion of all others. Nights out, birthdays, holidays...we did it together. Some of us in couples, some single...who cared? It was ace and I loved it. Not one for cliques, I was often on the periphery. I was Phoebe if you like. There were a couple of times when these friends were the only reason I ploughed on in a relationship that was fast going downhill. My best friend got engaged, married, started trying for kids. I gradually got left out of those conversations. People just knew things were bad.

So finally, when I plucked up the courage to leave, I was deeply relieved to hear these same friends affirming I had done the right thing. He could never give me what I needed. I deserved better. It's a strange thing when someone's best friends tell you you're better off without the person that they love so dearly. Most of them said that anyway.

My best friend has always been high maintenance. Hyper sensitive and massively change averse, she struggles with my up front bolshiness and blind ambition. I love her like a sister. I knew she'd have to see my ex after the split but surely her loyalties would lie with me. Our friendship pre-dated any of our relationships. We are Monica & Rachel. I was wrong. She was quiet from the start. I remember a boozy day in Manchester just after it happened. Breaking down over cocktails and admitting some of the bad stuff. Then it went quiet. She was busy at work. There were no phone calls. No visits. I was completely lost. Stupidly, I had thought that I was over things. I was not. Those weeks and months seem like a blur now but I was a mess and all I needed was my oldest friend. She went away on a pre-arranged weekend with my ex. I graciously ducked out but there was no discussion about it. No acknowledgment that the situation was weird. I gave her the benefit of the doubt. It was tough for her too...right? I met Karate Kid and was desperate for her to ask me about him. Nothing. She was actually getting the skinny from one of our less discreet friends. Our meetings became stinted and awkward. I spoke frequently to her voicemail but no call back.

Then she relocated across the pond with her husband's job. She needed my advice and for the first time in a long time, we spoke openly and I felt some of the bond return. The week before she left, we had dinner. The cocktails did their work and we were laughing and joking like in the old days. Suddenly she looked awkward and told me that they were actually having a leaving do. On Monday. But she was very sorry, they had invited my ex. An embarrassing silence ensued and to end it, I mumbled that it was fine, I had plans. I later found out that all of our friends would be there. Her family, his family. Everyone but me. It was bad.

Two weeks ago, things came to a head. After a disastrous holiday with a mutual friend, I finally plucked up the courage to confront her, albeit on the phone. She was defensive. Said I was very difficult to support. That she had found MY break up very difficult. That she had found it worrying that I was so mad at my ex. That she felt I had embarked on a new relationship far too quickly. That she thought there was something I wasn't telling her about Karate Kid. Basically it was all about her. Turns out my reaction to heartbreak did not conform to her expectations. My desire to move on was, apparently, deluded. The support I had seen from other friends was not genuine but designed to make me feel better. For her, my being in a verbally abusive, negative relationship WAS better than no relationship at all. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that her reaction has been almost as painful as the break up itself. It has knocked my confidence. I have questioned my other friendships.

As a responsible adult, I can move on. I have realised that I don't need to rely on her for access to my lovely, supportive friends. They've been there all along. It has however made me question peoples' reaction to my single status. Being in a relationship, ANY relationship is a validation. Is being single and happy the modern day taboo? Discuss.