Words by Chantelle Cobby // illustration by Nea Valdivia
It’s officially been 20 years since the release of this generation’s ultimate coming-of-age movie – The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants. Somewhat of a cultural phenomenon, the film follows four teens – Carmen, Lena, Tibby, and Bridget – who manage to perfectly capture the electricity and vivaciousness of girlhood, long before the term found its way back into the zeitgeist.
Call me naïve, but growing up, I assumed friendship would look exactly like that – complete with daily catch-ups, unannounced arrivals on each other’s doorsteps, and an effortless integration into every facet of one another’s lives. Throw the Lizzie-and-Miranda dynamic from Lizzie McGuire in the mix, alongside the forever-iconic trio of Emma, Rikki and Cleo from H2O: Just Add Water, and I had a very clear – and very idealised – picture of what being close to someone was supposed to look like.
It has been rather confronting to realise that real-life friendships rarely look like that (spoiler alert: they’re far more varied and complex than what the media of our youth ever accounted for – although I’m guessing you’ve figured that out by now too).
One particularly notable difference is that friendships today can take on so many new forms, thanks largely to the digital tools and social platforms that have removed the need for physical proximity as a basis for connection.
These days, our bonds can extend far beyond the walls of our classrooms, offices, and flats – and into comment sections, DM’s, and group chats with others who share our values, interests, humour, or worldview. And while many of the old rituals that have helped deepen and nurture many-a-friendship – whether that’s doing each other’s make-up before a night out, enjoying a long lunch or bottomless brunch, or running errands together – still hold their weight, they’re joined by new rituals that play out via GIF’s, reels, and instant messages.
I know this to be true, as I have never physically met one of my best friends.
After crossing paths at an online event two years ago (during which we initially bonded over a shared taste in music), we’ve traded voice notes nearly every day since – each one travelling the 8,000 miles that exist between us. Despite this distance, and the differences between us, our friendship has evolved into one that’s just as tangible as any I’ve had in-person, and she has solidified her place amongst my closest friends.
Listening back now, our first few voice messages were short and stiff – the digital equivalent of small talk, as we carefully considered which parts of ourselves we each felt safe to reveal. I distinctly recall recording and re-recording my messages, trying to strike a perfect balance in my enthusiasm, authenticity, openness, and optimism.
But slowly, the pressure that we hadn’t even realised had been holding us in its grip began to loosen, and we allowed ourselves to exist, exactly as we are, in each other’s presence. Since then, our WhatsApp thread has become an increasingly colourful, chaotic scrapbook of our lives and friendship – with everything from quick check-ins as we dash out the door for work, to rambling 2am monologues, all decorating the metaphorical pages.
Like any twenty-something, my messages pulse with career doubts, a shifting sense of identity, and a restless uncertainty as I figure out my place in this world. A few years older than me, hers capture the delicate and challenging balance between motherhood and building a business.
Together, we’ve helped each other through one redundancy (followed by a new job), two family dramas, one pet adoption, one Niall Horan album release, three Harry Styles’ music video releases that we livestreamed together, countless late-night identity crises, and of course, the general chaos that seems to come with trying to be a (semi)-functional human in 2025.
What I admire most about this friend is her ability to identify the small joys and celebrate even the tiniest wins. “I’m cartwheeling across the ceiling for you,” she often exclaims, her soft Southern American accent hugging the words of her trademark saying whenever I share something worth celebrating. As someone who has a terrible habit of glazing over my achievements and going straight to focusing on the next one (I see you, fellow ambitious girlies), this is one of the ways that she has impacted me most – inspiring me to notice and savour my milestones, big and small, instead of rushing past them in the way I used to.
And while I may not know the rhythm of her walk, the outfit that makes her feel the most confident, or the way her eyes must light up when she laughs about the quirky differences in our cultural norms, I know exactly how her voice quickens when she’s excited, softens when she’s struggling, and rises in pitch whenever I share a new photo of my puppy.
Do I wish I could show up at her doorstep, snacks in hand, and sit beside her as day fades into night, giggling over our inside jokes, just as the girls do in The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants after Bridget returns from soccer camp? Absolutely. Never more so than on the days where tears punctuate her messages – and I ache to teleport across the oceans between us to wrap her in a warm hug, instead of fumbling to find words of comfort.
But still, the distance between us has never diminished the closeness we’ve built, and I wouldn’t change our unique friendship for the world. Without ever occupying the same physical space, we’ve built a beautiful bond message-by-message, and it holds just as much purpose and meaning as any of my friendships based upon proximity.
For me, this friendship couldn’t have come at a better time. As someone with a chronic health condition, the ongoing risk of Covid has meant I can’t engage in social activities in the ways I once did – and before we met, loneliness had been finding its way into my world with increasing force and frequency. This digital connection stands against that, and offers a sense of belonging in a way that is safe and free from expectation.
According to recent research, I’m not alone in this loneliness – with the 2023 State of the Nation Report revealing that 1 in 4 Australians are experiencing feelings of social isolation amidst what has been dubbed a global “loneliness epidemic.”
There has long been debate over the extent to which digital technologies are contributing to these statistics. And while I don’t dispute the role that screens may play in keeping us apart, I also wonder if there’s a double-edged sword in play – and if these very screens could actually be part of the solution. Because if technology gives us a platform to grow friendships that are even half as rich as the one I’ve been so lucky to experience, perhaps it holds the key to the intimacy and belonging we’re clearly desperately craving (albeit in a form we’re still adjusting to).
Looking back, I spent so much of my childhood hoping I’d one day find a piece of the magic the four girls in The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants experienced together. But honestly, I’m realising now that I already have. To share in a friendship that crosses borders – where we can make each other feel seen, heard, held, loved, and celebrated through the messages you choose to send – is a kind of magic on its own accord (even if it looks nothing like what I once imagined). And it’s one I hope everyone gets the privilege of experiencing in their own way, especially when there’s such a clear need for us all to reimagine how we can be there for one another.
