When I talk about my childhood and teenage friends, I still call them: my boys. We’re all in our early 40s, but some things in life shouldn’t change. My relationship with them is part of it.
I grew up in a circle of friends that, from my perspective today, seems like a stroke of luck. We were a large group of boys in our school year, we all liked and respected each other, we did bark at each other from time to time, but it was more performative. I don’t remember any real arguments. Of course not everything was perfect. I don’t remember that we had an incredibly deep conversation. But we stuck together, all of us, probably around 40 guys. We were closer friends with some, looser friends with others. The feeling united us: we belong together. We still do that in a way.
