Friends With Benefits: Combining the Physical and Platonic
BY ALEXANDRIA MOORE
Everyone always says that “friends with benefits” never work out. One person inevitably catches feelings, friendships are ruined, and someone always ends up hurt.
Personally, I believe that those are all over-generalizations. Similar arguments can be made about romantic relationships. One person inevitably loses interest, romances are ruined, and someone always ends up hurt.
Friendship is based on connection. Physical intimacy is also based on connection, so why can’t the two go hand in hand?
Being physically intimate with a friend can lend itself to a unique, successful dynamic. I do not mean to say that everyone should all of the sudden start sleeping with their best friend, but I don’t think people should be so quick to shut down the idea. There are certain criteria that need to be met for a friendship to include physical intimacy. For example, if two friends are single, are attracted to each other, and have good chemistry, it makes sense that a physical relationship could occur. I myself have been in a situation where I became physically intimate with a friend and it was one of the most enjoyable relationships I ever had.
Whenever I mention my positive experience in a “friends with benefits” relationship, I’m usually met with surprise and confusion. Most people assume that a successful “friends with benefits” relationship just isn’t possible. For some unknown reason, it is commonly believed that friends can only be successfully involved with each other if they are madly in love. A friendship that turns physical is seen as ill advised, but a friendship that turns into a romance is seen as the perfect love story.
"For some unknown reason, it is commonly believed that friends can only be successfully involved with each other if they are madly in love."
It’s the classic When Harry Met Sally situation. Two people meet and soon become friendly. Over time, the pair spends more and more time together, getting to know each other’s quirks, staying up late venting about their problems over the phone, and talking in silly voices to each other until someone cracks and starts laughing obnoxiously loud in a public place. The two friends watch each other break up with various significant others and wonder why all of their romantic conquests never seem to work out. Then during the pivotal turning point of the film, the two friends realize that the romance they should be focusing on had been in front of them all along. Cue the swell of violins as the final scene is projected across the big screen and the audience gets to see the two friends confess their undying romantic love for each other, finally becoming a couple.
There’s nothing wrong with this friends-turned-couple model. I personally adore When Harry Met Sally, but it is not the only model for a healthy relationship. In fact, you can love someone and be having sex with that person without having that layer of undying romantic love.
One of the first people I was ever truly physically intimate with was someone I had known for thirteen years. He was the high school golden boy—he’d been elected both student body president and homecoming king, was highly decorated with leadership awards, and had been accepted into his top choice university. We had been in the same classes since seventh grade and would sit next to each other most days. Our families knew both of us well and we had watched each other grow up. He was the boy next door that my mother fawned over.
When we started getting closer towards the end of our senior year of high school, it seemed as if we had built the perfect foundation for a classic Hollywood rom-com. Of course, when you’ve known someone since the age of six, you will inevitably form a deep bond, yet this particular relationship never evolved into a romantic one.
Although our relationship was a combination of friendly and physical, I hesitate to label it a “friends with benefits” type situation because of the negative perceptions so often associated with the term. The term “friends with benefits” is often assumed to mean two single friends who have casual, meaningless sex solely out of convenience to satisfy any sexual urges they have. My experience was not like this. Yes, we would hang out in between classes or at parties with our mutual friends and then break away from the group to hook up, but there was also a certain unnamed element to our ambiguous entanglement with each other. It was a casual relationship, but not an insignificant one. Because we had been friends for so long, we had already established a foundation of understanding each other. I felt comfortable around him. All of our interactions were natural. I never felt pressured to look perfect and conventionally attractive every time he came around. I was not afraid to laugh during sex. I also was never afraid to speak up about what I wanted because we talked all the time, so I did not feel the need to hesitate to talk about what was and was not working. I fully enjoyed myself around him, no matter what we were doing.
On one particularly memorable night in August, we had gone skinny dipping in my pool while my parents were away for the weekend. In the middle of our escapade, I started talking about the mechanics of how I wanted things to go in a very straightforward, perhaps “unsexy” manner, as well as joked about how he tasted like chlorine mid-kiss. I probably would not feel comfortable talking that way to anyone else, but with him it did not feel awkward. Afterwards, he wrapped me in a towel and we went inside. Then, we talked about the rest of our summer plans as I ate half a pizza, making quite the mess while doing so, and he joked about how my post-pool hair made me look like a lion, as friends do.
I realize these things that I am describing should be present in every healthy romantic relationship. I do not mean to say that comfort with a partner is exclusive to people who are “friends with benefits.” However, in our relationship, I did not feel the nervousness that so often comes with being romantically involved with someone. I was not shy because there was no pressure to present myself as the perfect life partner.
"The traditional romantic component simply was not present and that was okay."
We were having fun and had something meaningful, but we just never felt the need to commit to being in a conventional romantic relationship. The traditional romantic component simply was not present and that was okay. Having a label of “boyfriend and girlfriend” was not necessary for us because we had created something entirely our own; we were together at an intersection of companionship, attraction, and platonic love.