The Friend Zone Doesn't Exist

When I was five, I was afraid of monsters.

When I was ten, I was afraid of spiders. But when I was thirteen, I was afraid of the Friend Zone. My classmates and I were all afraid of the Friend Zone. It was like Bigfoot and the Chupacabra, both in its destructive power and its mythic origins.

The Friend Zone was the romantic equivalent of prison. Women had a terrifying ability to place you in a little box from which there was no escape. The concept is simple: if you get too close to a girl you like, she will always think of you as “just a friend.”

I first heard of the Friend Zone when I was in middle school.

My friend Matthew slumped into a chair next to me at the lunch table and said, “Patrick. Never be friends with a girl.”

Now, I had never dated a girl before, but very much wanted to. Also, Matthew was in eighth grade and I was in seventh. Naturally, I found what he said quite interesting. After all, he had months more experience than I did.

His crush Samantha had rejected him. He went up to her during gym class, which was his first mistake. Gym class is the worst time to ask someone out unless your sweat happens to smell good. After asking if she would be his girlfriend, Samantha informed him that she couldn’t, because they were already friends, and if they broke up, that would ruin their friendship.

I took Matthew’s words of warning and spent my middle school days plagued with fear of the Friend Zone. My friends complained they ruined their chances with a girl by being too friendly. These fallen brothers spun cautionary tales of their failed romantic endeavors, warning me never to be the shoulder to cry on or to listen to a girl’s problems. These acts were sure paths into the Friend Zone.

It was uncanny. Whenever I finally mustered up the courage to ask a girl, “Will you go out with me?” she would cast the spell that put me in the Friend Zone. “I just wouldn’t want to risk losing you as a friend.” It was almost as if they all rehearsed it together.

The Annoying Little Brother Zone.

To my friends in middle school, the Friend Zone was the worst thing that could happen to us. But I had no idea that something even more sinister waited around the corner. That’s right, there is something worse than the Friend Zone. I experienced it as an innocent little high school sophomore with no idea the world could be so cruel. It's called, “The Annoying Little Brother Zone.”

My friend group in high school included Lisa, a girl I was very much into. She was everything I wanted in a girl, which in high school just meant she was pretty and laughed at my jokes.

We were all driving to a restaurant. Lisa and her friend were talking about the band, my friend and I were talking about the youth group, and every so often I would say something to make Lisa turn around and talk to me. I was using a tactic I have come to call “boy-flirting,” which is where you tease a girl thinking it will make her like you.

I don’t remember what I said but I know she was frustrated because after a few too many instances of boy-flirting, Lisa turned around and said, “Oh my gosh, shut up, you’re like my annoying little brother!”

I’m not gonna lie. That stung.

I was both like her brother and annoying AND little? That was it. If it was impossible to get out of the Friend Zone, the Annoying Little Brother Zone was a death sentence. For the rest of high school and well into college, I feared the word “brother.”

That is, until a girl said the same thing to me in college.

What does “brother” mean?

Okay, so it wasn’t the exact same thing. Luckily, someone only called me their “annoying little brother” once. But my friend Charlotte did tell me I was like her brother, and my first response was to cringe.

For some reason, it didn’t sting as badly as when Lisa said it. Maybe it was because she left off “annoying” and “little” but I think it was different because of the way she said “brother.”

It wasn't an insult or something disqualifying. She said it like it was a virtue.

This sent me into a little bit of an existential crisis, which is something I’m prone to. What does the word “brother” mean? Have I been using it wrong my whole life? I thought it meant something like “buddy” or “pal” but now it seemed to have a deeper spiritual significance.

I have heard the words “brother” and “sister” used in many different ways. I’ve heard hip youth ministers call me “brother” and close friends call each other “sisters”. If we consider the literal definitions of brother and sister, none of this makes sense. A sister is someone with the same parent as you, but best friends will still call each other sisters. It seems that when we love someone, we want to be closer to them than mere friendship would suggest. We want to make them a part of our family.

When I connected brotherhood with friendship, I realized several things about the Friend Zone.

The Friend Zone doesn’t exist.

I realized I missed an opportunity with Lisa. Underneath the (well deserved) insult, she was calling me her brother. Instead of being down about her not being romantically interested in me, I should have been happy to call her my sister.

I also realized how silly the idea of the Friend Zone is. The word “friend” has almost lost its meaning, but the original meaning of the word means that person is like our brother or sister. If someone of the opposite sex calls you their friend that should be a compliment. If they aren’t saying it superficially, it means they care about you enough to call you their brother or sister.

On top of that, the Friend Zone can’t exist because spouses are supposed to be friends. They are supposed to be, in a sense, brother and sister. In a family, brothers and sisters are there to help each other grow and mature. They’re like classmates in the School of Life. In a relationship or a marriage, the same thing is true.

The truth about the Friend Zone is it’s an excuse. Some people use it to mean they don't find someone attractive. To them, I would say, just be honest. It may hurt in the short term but perpetuating the Friend Zone does more damage in the long term.

Others are legitimately afraid of losing a friendship after a breakup. To them I would say, take the risk. A good friendship is not a reason to avoid pursuing a relationship, it’s exactly the opposite.