I’m going to be real with you about something that feels a little vulnerable to admit.
When Galentine’s Day rolls around every February 13, that fun, Leslie Knope-invented holiday celebrating female friendship, I feel a little pang. Not jealousy exactly. More like… wistfulness. Because while everyone else is posting their brunch photos and “love my girls” captions, I’m over here thinking, “That looks really nice. I wonder what that’s like.”
Here’s the truth: I don’t really have close girlfriends. And I haven’t for a while.
The Codependent Confession
My husband and I? We’re pretty codependent. There, I said it. We’re each other’s person. Our best friend. Our go-to for everything. We don’t really do the “girls’ night” or “guys’ night” thing. We don’t have a tight-knit friend group. We’re kind of our own little island, and honestly? Most of the time, that works for us.
We like our quiet life. We like our craft room projects and our Netflix binges and our inside jokes that no one else would understand. We’re homebodies who found another homebody, and we’re perfectly content in our little bubble.
But then Galentine’s Day comes around, and I see all these posts about women celebrating each other—the group chats, the decades-long friendships, the “we finish each other’s sentences” bonds—and I feel it. That little “huh, that must be nice” feeling.
Related: How to Celebrate Galentine’s Day with Your Friends
What Happened to My Friendships?
I used to have girlfriends. Not a ton, but a few good ones scattered across different seasons of life. High school friends who knew me before I knew myself. Work friends who got the professional struggles. Mom friends from when the kids were little who understood the exhaustion.
But life happens, you know? People move. Priorities shift. Careers change. Kids grow up. And somewhere along the way, those friendships faded into “we should get together sometime” and then just… silence.
Part of it is me. I’m an introvert who recharges alone (or with my husband). Maintaining friendships takes energy I don’t always have. It requires reaching out, making plans, and showing up even when you’re tired. And honestly? I’m not great at it.
Part of it is just how life works. Everyone’s busy. Everyone’s dealing with their own stuff. The effort required to maintain deep friendships feels like one more thing on an already overwhelming list.
And part of it is that I just… stopped trying as hard.
Why Female Friendships Still Matter (Even When You Don’t Have Them)
Here’s the thing, though, even though I don’t have that girl gang, I still believe female friendships are incredibly important. I see their value even if I’m not currently experiencing it.
Women understand other women in ways that are hard to explain. There’s a shared language, a knowing glance, an unspoken understanding of what it’s like to navigate the world as a woman. The pressures, the expectations, the invisible labor, the constant juggling act.
Female friends celebrate your wins without competition. They hold space for your struggles without trying to fix everything. They remember the small details about your life that matter. They see you… really see you… in ways that feel sacred.
They’re also the safety net for parts of yourself that don’t fit neatly into other relationships. The parts that need to vent about things your partner might not fully get. The parts that need encouragement from someone who’s walked a similar path. The parts that just need someone to say, “Yeah, me too. You’re not crazy.”
And I think that’s what I miss most, being fully known by someone outside my marriage.
The Loneliness I Don’t Talk About
Can I be honest about something? Sometimes the codependent thing feels less like a choice and more like… well, loneliness with company. But only at times like this.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my husband deeply. He’s my partner in every sense of the word. But there’s something about female friendship that fills a different space. A space that feels a little empty right now.
When I’m struggling with something, I talk to him. When I need advice, I ask him. When I want to celebrate something, I tell him. And he’s wonderful and supportive and everything I could ask for. But sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have that other voice. That girlfriend who gets it from a different angle.
I see women my age with their tight friend groups, and I wonder how they did it. How they maintained those bonds through busy seasons. How they prioritized those relationships when everything else demanded their attention. How they made it look so easy.
My main issue is I don’t really click with females. I’ve always hung out with the guys.
Why Galentine’s Day Makes Me Wistful
So when Galentine’s Day comes around, it’s a reminder of what I don’t have. Not in a bitter way, more in a “that looks really lovely and I wish I had that” way.
I wish I had a group chat that blew up my phone with memes and inside jokes. I wish I had someone to call when I needed to talk through something without judgment. I wish I had that standing lunch date or girls’ trip or someone who just got me in that specific female friendship way.
I wish I had women in my life who showed up year-round, not because they had to, but because they wanted to. Who remembered my birthday without Facebook reminding them. Who checked in just because. Who made me feel seen and valued and celebrated.
I wish I was celebrating Galentine’s Day instead of writing about why I’m not.
Maybe It’s Not Too Late
Here’s what I’m thinking as I write this… maybe it’s not too late. Maybe friendships can be built at any age, in any season. Maybe it just looks different than it did in our twenties.
Maybe it starts small. A text to someone I haven’t talked to in years. Saying yes to an invitation instead of defaulting to “I’m too tired.” Putting myself out there even when it feels awkward and forced.
Maybe it means being vulnerable enough to admit I want friendships, even though that feels like admitting I’m lonely. Even though it feels easier to just stay in my comfortable bubble.
Maybe Galentine’s Day doesn’t have to be about celebrating the friendships I have; maybe it can be about honoring the ones I want. The ones I’m hoping to build. The ones I’m opening myself up to, even if it’s scary.
Related: How to Celebrate Galentine’s Day with Your Friends
The Bottom Line
So no, I’m not celebrating Galentine’s Day this year with mimosas and brunch and a group of beloved girlfriends. But I’m celebrating the idea of it. The beautiful concept that female friendships deserve recognition and honor and a whole dang holiday.
And maybe I’m using this as a little wake-up call to myself. A reminder that isolation isn’t the same as contentment. That being codependent with my husband doesn’t mean I can’t also have meaningful friendships. That it’s okay to want both.
To all the women out there celebrating Galentine’s Day with your ride-or-dies: I’m happy for you. Genuinely. Celebrate those friendships hard. They matter more than you know.
And to the women who are like me, scrolling through the Galentine’s posts feeling a little left out, a little wistful, a little lonely, you’re not alone in feeling alone. Maybe this year is the year we do something about it. Maybe we reach out. Maybe we try.
Or maybe we just sit with the wistfulness for a bit and let ourselves feel it. That’s okay too.
Happy Galentine’s Day to the friendships we have, the ones we’ve lost, and the ones we’re hoping to find.
Lisa Crow contributed to this article. She is a true crime junkie and lifestyle blogger based in Waco, Texas. Lisa is the Head of Content at Gigi’s Ramblings and Southern Bred True Crime Junkie. She spends her free time traveling when she can and making memories with her large family which consists of six children and fifteen grandchildren.