My Female Friends Have Always Carried Me

 

“I want my female friends to carry my coffin,” I say over dinner. My husband, eagerly looking at the smoked salmon on his plate, doesn’t seem surprised, but I realise how illogical it is for a mother of three sons to say such a thing. The four men in my life are strong enough to carry my 72 kg and my cardboard coffin (roughly 20 kg) to their final resting place.

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This conversation took place a year ago after I was diagnosed with stage 4 ovarian cancer. At the time, thinking of involving my friends in my funeral seemed an emotionally driven idea, but my gut feelings are often based on deeper thoughts. Now, more than a year later, I am certain that I would like my female friends to escort me on my final journey. It’s not that I’m constantly thinking about my death or that I want to sideline my children, but I’m aware of my chances of survival. I might die within a year, or it could take another 10 years. Regardless, I anticipate that my husband will be clueless about how to organise a funeral in Finland, so I better be vocal about my wishes. Moreover, the men in my family know darn well that I’ve been carried by women throughout my life.

 

Invaluable Support

Since early childhood, I’ve always surrounded myself with female friends, but it has been during the past few years that I’ve become especially aware of the role women play in my life. For instance, without female friends, I wouldn’t have survived the first four years in Finland. My husband had a job; the boys went to school, and there I stood every morning waving them goodbye from behind the window. Starting the Oulu International Women’s Club in 2000 was a lifesaver, and I know it was the same for many other women. Also, it was an alto in my choir who reached out and introduced me to my first employer in Finland. It was a female deputy mayor who sincerely listened to my unemployment frustrations. It was a trustworthy woman who supported me during a period of burnout. Years later, when I’d had enough of my job, a female scientist gave me the opportunity to lecture at university. Unlike the male managers I encountered throughout my life, it was women who boosted my confidence and helped me grow.

 

2023: Cancer Year

Last year, it was women who dropped off meals at my door during the days of chemo; who visited me in hospital; who came with me to the store to buy a wig; who sent me body lotion, books, magazines and poems; who joined me for walks; who encouraged and supported my blog writing; who checked in on me during low moments; who volunteered to volunteer on my behalf; who kept me posted about their daily activities; who visited me, even from places as far away as Helsinki; who gave me the opportunity to talk about my fears; and who sent me postcards (I received over 100 cards, sometimes from families, but the handwriting was always feminine). Breast cancer survivors in Canada, Finland and the Netherlands gave me tips, but they never overloaded me with advice. It was women who sent me flowers and chocolate, who knitted woolly socks and mittens for me and who invited me for coffee at their places after the last chemo session. Again, it was a woman who carefully guided me during my first steps back to the gym.

During my chemo year, I was surrounded by a pink cloud of female care and friendship. As someone without family in Finland, I consider myself unbelievably fortunate to have had so much support, and I am immensely thankful for it.

 

Female Friendships Are Essential for My Well-Being

I don’t want to downplay the role of my husband, sons and male friends; they certainly are dear to me. My husband, took time off from work to drive me to the lab and the hospital. He bought groceries, took care of our cats and chickens, and worked from home just to keep an eye on me. My sons called almost every week, and my male friends regularly messaged me, but for one reason or another, the girls instinctively knew how to lift me up when I was down.

I’ve long been pondering why female friends are important to me. I’m not a girlish kind of woman. On the contrary, I never talk with friends about make-up, and I don’t like shopping with (or without) friends. My friendships are partly based on the willingness to show vulnerability. For example, “I’m doing OK” is not an answer that is uttered in our circle. Besides, we don’t need to brag about our jobs, our travels or our incredibly smart, sporty, social and sweet children. We’re simply OK with being honest with and accessible to each other.

Also, without wanting to turn this into a political discussion, I think women face social problems that men may not always understand. I vividly remember a discussion with my husband, years ago, in which I had to explain the concept of the glass ceiling. It was a new idea for a man who reads the newspapers but who never had to apply for any of his jobs. Mind you, he is not a typical alpha male; he just never had given it a thought.

My husband, my solid rock, understands my struggles, fears and worries on an intellectual level, but my female friends intuitively know how to fill my emotional gaps. They are my sounding board in times of stress.

 

My Role

I’ve always considered myself reasonably loyal to my friends, but after a burnout in 2011, visits to psychologists and a master’s degree in loneliness, I understood that you can’t take friendships for granted. On the contrary, friendships need nurturing and care. I hope I have become a better friend over the years.

At the same time, having limited energy levels, I no longer want to hang out with people who constantly brag about their achievements. Knowing that there is often insecurity behind this sort of behaviour, the old Ata would be patient and kind, but at this stage in my life, there is no longer room for nice-weather friendships. I need people who dare to show their genuine, true selves.

The best lesson I’ve learnt has been to become good friends with myself. Nowadays, I enjoy my own company; my thoughts matter to me, and I know what I need to do to meet my needs. There is no shame in asking for help or inviting friends for a walk; rather, it creates a bond.

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My female friends have always given me a sense of belonging and security, and that’s why I want to give them the honour to become pallbearers at my funeral. It’s a role that is often given to strong men. Each pallbearer needs to carry 25 kg, but hey, I’m sure there will be more of us during the ceremony. Also, I promise that from now on I’ll reduce my chocolate intake.

To look on the bright side, research has shown that female friendships can extend a woman’s life expectancy. For our own sake, we better stick together girls!

 

Wishing all incredible friends out there a very happy women´s day!