I’m unsure why this was not apparent to me before, but I’m learning how much I value finding meaning. Meaning in law, meaning in anthropology, meaning in society, meaning in feelings, meaning in thoughts, meaning in relationships, and of course, meaning in friendships. It’s important to me to feel understood and loved for who I truly am; which, I think is why I’ve become so selective with who I allow into my life—romantic and non-romantic. The people I choose to keep close mean something to me. I value them. They are my treasures. They keep me balanced. They understand me. They love me. They don’t judge me. They believe in me. They trust me. They encourage me. They inspire me. They never doubt me. They care about me. They protect me. They challenge me. They nurture me. And best of all, they’re good for my soul. They’re key to my personal development; in fact, they’re the reason I am who I am today. They’re always looking out for me and have my best interests in mind whenever they feel like it’s time to give me some hard truths that I may be too blind to see. They’re my rearview mirrors, always forcing me to recognize and to really see my blind spots. Since my blog has been super sad lately and I’ve had a bad day, here’s a post of gratitude about my most meaningful, committed, stable, fun, and healthy relationship I’ve ever had: MB, this is for you.

There is some current confusion over when we became friends because we cannot agree at how old kids are when they are in grade 3. There is also some confusion over an alleged pet fish our grade three class had, which she swears exists but cannot prove that…at all (she’s crazy and tends to make things up a lot, you’ll see). Regardless, we became friends sometime in grade 3 when we decided to be in the same group together to do a “lip sync”—unsure why we had to do this and unsure of what or how we were graded—to this Vengaboys song (I know, so embarrassing. I even remember we had all agreed to wear “tear away pants and tank tops” during our…performance? lol what?). And we continued our friendship throughout elementary school. I remember we used to talk about what we wanted to be when we grew up and back then, I wanted to be a neurologist and she wanted to be an architect (lol, she cannot draw). I also remember hanging out with her in grade 5 and being so jealous that her mom (also now my second mom) bought her the “Josie and the Pussycat Dolls” costume that my parents refused to buy me because it showed my mid-drift (asian parents, amiright?) In grade 6, the little trailblazer she was back then (and much more so today) began the trend of wearing eyeliner to school, to which my parents were all like “lol hard no, go open your math book”. She also was the first one to have a boyfriend and of course, a breakup. She was more popular than me back then, but didn’t seem to mind hanging out with me despite my lack of popularity, which says a lot about my girl’s character! Not that I was like, uncool, I just wasn’t “as cool” as her. I was just known as a smart girl. But, come grade 7 and 8, my friendship with MB elevated me to her “popular” status, sort of. I don’t really know man, we both had a separate groups of friends, but always had a closeness and like, who really knows.

Either way, grade 7 and 8 were really the turning points of our friendship. We started MBA*17, became obsessed over our Iverson jerseys, started hanging out at “sus” making sure people “linked our cellies” or “lve msgs” while we were out. We began trying to attract the attention of our crushes on MSN—you know, that thing we all did when you set your status to “offline” even though you were really online and then when you saw that your crush came “online”, you suddenly change your status to “online” as well so that they can see that you came “online” and just wait for them to message you?? You know?? Oh fuck you guys, we’re not the only two who’s done this! Whatever, we became a lot closer because we understood each other in ways that our other friends didn’t understand us (or you readers may not understand us). We were the “popular smart girls” who got good grades, had dreams that went beyond Maple, and I don’t know…we just got each other. It’s as if our friendship was just built to withstand anything that life threw at us. We innately trusted each other with things that we probably didn’t share with others. For instance, in grade 8, I remember talking to her about things we might have done with our “serious boyfriends” and then giggling to each other because we had done the exact same thing. I remember talking to her about how sad and scared I was about my mom, who, at the time, was sick. I remember giving each other life advice about what little life we had experienced and what little things we had experienced in our innocent love lives, thinking we both knew everything about everything. I also remember our talent show where her and I and a few other girls, who, I straight up can’t remember at this point anymore, revived the coolness of the Spice Girls and danced to a Spice Girl mix made by our dear friend “DJ Vesh” that ended with me singing this song. The practices were held at another one of our friends’ basements and they were so much fucking fun. I also remember that basement being the site of my first of many “teenage, co-ed” parties where dancing and grinding were the norm; specifically, I remember grinding to this this song. I should just stop talking because this is so embarrassing, but I don’t even care. I need a laugh today and these memories make me laugh.

But, despite our closeness, in grade 8, I made the decision to not go to the feeder Catholic high school that she and everyone else went to. Instead, I went to a private Catholic high school in downtown Toronto because, again, asian parents. At the end of grade 8, I got her and a few other of my close friends at the time to write on my binders (something I used to do on theirs, not because they asked me to, but because I always had no boundaries? Idk) that I would use during high school. Back then, English was my favourite subject and MB was pretty much always my most meaningful BFF, so I gave her that binder to write on. She’s not one for lengthy essays (unless she’s in a text feud; she writes strong topic sentences and conclusions, lemme tell ya), so I remember really appreciating that she took the time and effort to fill up all four sides of my English binder. And interestingly enough, that was the only binder I kept throughout all of highschool. And still have to this day.

We didn’t talk as much in high school because I was so far away and I “left” her (as she likes to say). So, we individually went through typical and atypical high school experiences. Then, I “left” her again to spend two years living in Montréal while I was at McGill. Experienced some weird times and decided to come back home to finish up my undergrad at YorkU. As soon as I made that decision, I made plans with MB to go for lunch to catch up and tell her my news. And man, was she ecstatic. She was so ecstatic that right after lunch, we went to YorkU and she showed me around campus and made me get my student card, etc. During our undergrad days, she’d pick me up, we’d go to each other’s classes, have lunch at Berries and Bloom, drink lots of coffee, make intense eye contact with our crushes, study at the library, stalk our friend M, study at Coffee Culture, go home, and repeat. Throughout all of these rather mundane activities, we’d laugh. A lot. I actually don’t think we can have a conversation without making each other giggle. It’s a real challenge. We’d make up ridiculous scenarios, play them out, and laugh until we couldn’t breathe. Mind you, we still do that. We’d tell each other incomplete stories that drive us both insane, like the incomplete story of where her mom got her mini coin purse and we’d vehemently debate the existence of “woodies” (don’t even get me started. She says it’s a “car” but tbh, it just sounds like a crass synonym for boner). At York, we’d (she’d) also get a lot of parking tickets—to this day, we still aren’t sure how she ever got her degree. But either way, after undergrad, MB will tell you again that I “left” her to move to BC for my graduate studies, and while we spoke often, she could never really wrap her head around the time difference for some reason—IT’S 3 HOURS BEHIND TORONTO TIME GODDAMNIT. Our giggles would continue via phone calls and random text messages.

When I came home in the summer of 2015 to take care of my Gramps, she was there. When I went through some extreme personal family issues, she was there. When I went through the heartache of my first breakup, she was there; she was actually my first call. She came to pick me up immediately and we went off to Coffee Culture, where she let me literally cry on her shoulder and helped me dissect the disgusting text messages I sent to my ex-boyfriend, begging him to take me back (ew). At the end of the summer, she “left” me for the first time and went to law school, where our friendship would continue to thrive through texts. As I continued to get through that breakup, I’d periodically send her sad, funny, random, and neurotic shit, while she’d respond in kind and always, always offer nothing but words of support, encouragement, and hard truths. She would tell me stories about her first year of law school and made it sound so fun, that I came to visit her. Twice. I say this because she only visited me once while I was at law school. No hard feelings, dude.

I think it was the summer of 2016 when we decided to roadtrip to Ottawa to visit the law school and attend the RBC Bluesfest to see the RHCP. We stayed at an AirBnB down the street from my current apartment and debated the existence of the word “rotus”, which, again, she vehemently argued was a root (she meant lotus and the word “rotus” DOES NOT EXIST, fyi). We hiked in Gatineau Park and visited the Lusk Caves and did not bring a flashlight because, in her words, we were not “fucking losers”. We also saw a bear (not eating a salmon from a river, unfortunately) which she pointed out by screaming something muffled in my face and hitting my arm. While we have a lot of fun together every single time we see each other or talk, I don’t think that we have ever had as much as fun as we did on that trip. Though, I'm reticent to say that because later that summer on my annual birthday hike, we drove past an Ostrich Farm and a million more laughs originated from that—like did you know that you can purchase ostrich eggs and ostriches? Like for no fucking reason? We emailed the ostrich farm to inquire about the price of an ostrich; to this day, we have not received a response. Rude. Anyways, she then left for her second year of law school and I applied to law school a few months after, with her encouragement and help. I eventually got accepted to law school and immediately called her (after mom and dad). She was in yoga, but she knew the second she saw my missed call. And the pure excitement and joy that I could hear on the other line through our screams was just so precious. She helped me decide which law school to select by doing what she’s done throughout our friendship: listen. She has a natural ability to say so much, by saying nothing.

She’ll never tell me what she thinks I should do unless I explicitly ask (which is all the time because I trust her implicitly). She never imposes her views on to me and always lets me get there on my own and supports (sometimes unwillingly) every decision I make, knowing that I’ll see things when I want to see things. This goes for everything: law school, boys, career paths, situations, friendships, etc. Everything. Her presence in my life is so powerful that no matter what the situation is, I know that I can go to her to talk about how I’m feeling and what I’m thinking without fear of judgment. She’s a stabilizing force in my life that has been so consistent, so selfless, and so loving. All the time. This is why she has always been my first call.

Once I started law school, I think that our friendship got even deeper (if possible), because now we shared something that no one else from our past really has in common with us—the law. Specifically, criminal law. We could go to each other to talk about times where we felt dejected by law school, cases that left us feeling deflated about how fucked up our society is, and just, talk about the profession. We’re both extremely passionate people about everything we do, especially the law. Our shared profession has introduced another dimension to our already multidimensional, deep, and timeless friendship. And I’m so thankful that we can truly talk about anything and never be bored and always be challenged.

While there are obviously too many memories to write in one sitting, I think that MB’s powerful and endless presence in my life has added—and continues to add—more meaning to who I was, who I am, and who I am becoming. We both share this trust in the universe that things will work out the way they are meant to and we just need to trust the process. Often, I forget. That’s where she comes in and reminds me of the bad bitch I am and encourages me to grow in ways that I’m not sure I could have without her. She is constantly reminding me of who I am. She’s my mirror. When I look to her for guidance, encouragement, support, or whatever the fuck, she reminds me that I’m dope. Just like her. For example, just a few hours ago, she sent this text:

“I get that you’re upset, I really do. But you are a mother fuckin SMART ASS AMAZING INTELLIGENT WONDERFUL woman who just finished law school and has much to achieve and plan and think about. Stop letting this ruin that. If it’s meant to work out, it will.”

And I needed that. Because she’s right. This is all a little ridiculous and all a little too familiar to the ending of my first year of law school, where I was in a very similar circumstance, except that dude was fucking terrible for me. She’s right. I just finished law school. And killed it. But, that’s for another day. This post of gratitude is dedicated to MB.

We have an extremely aggressive lady friendship; likely, because we have extremely aggressive male undertones. We aggressively believe in each other’s ability to accomplish the greatest of things. We aggressively believe in each other’s strength, intuition, and judgment. We aggressively defend each other to each other when one of us is feeling like a walking dumpster fire. We aggressively support each other’s goals, dreams, and decisions. We aggressively and conclusively know that we deserve the fucking world. Because we do. Throughout all of the years, all of the boys, all of the nasty breakups, all of the heartaches, all of the rejection, all of the acceptances, all of the other friends, all of the happiness, all of the tears, all of the drives, the coffee breaks, the study sessions, the growth, the wins, the losses, the different cities, the life talks, the law talks, the love talks, and the many, many giggles, our aggressive lady friendship has developed into something that looks a lot like sisterhood. I’ve known this woman for more than 20 years and I am so fucking proud to call her my best friend.

This aggressive lady friendship is one of the most meaningful relationships I have ever had and ever will have in my life. While neither of us became a neurologist or an architect (lol), we did both become criminal defence lawyers. We grew up together and we are continuing to grow together. And because we’ve never given up on each other and support each other throughout literally everything, I know that she’s got my back; always, and I’ve got her back; always. There’s a reason this aggressive lady friendship was able to survive and thrive over 20+ years and it’s because it has unparalleled meaning. As we grow, we bring the good things from our past into our present and future. I’m so grateful to have brought this aggressive lady friendship through 20+ years of this crazy life and I look forward to another 20+ years and more, with her by my side. I love you, MB. Thank you so much for all that you do for me and thank-you for always inspiring me to be the bad bitch we both innately are. I hope that our aggressive lady friendship has the same meaning to you.