Our columnist and Loose Women presenter, Jane Moore, asks, why are men and women so different when it comes to friendship?
WORDS: JANE MOORE. IMAGES: JANE MOORE, SHUTTERSTOCK AND ASDA.COM
Many years ago, my then husband was supposed to be going for lunch with a friend, but the man cancelled at the last minute. “Apparently, his son is ill,” he explained. “What son?” I asked. He looked confused. “Good point. I have no idea.”
It turned out that his friend, who was single, had fathered a child with someone after a brief fling but hadn’t thought to mention it to his friends. And now that he was owning up to it, my then husband hadn’t even picked up on this dynamite piece of information. He’d simply replied: “Alright mate, catch you later.”
Imagine if the same conversation had taken place between two women. After, ooh, about five minutes, we’d know who the other parent was, where the child had been conceived and born, his name and birth weight, why he was ill, the current status of the relationship and every one of their plans for co-parenting into the future.
ARE MEN FROM MARS?
Sweeping generalisation I know, but heterosexual men are funny creatures, aren’t they? They seem to bond over a shared love of a certain sport or hobby rather than life events or, God forbid, their feelings. There are notable exceptions, of course, but for the most part, the majority of my friends who are still married remain transfixed by their other half’s ability to get in a taxi and talk in great detail with the driver about Chelsea/Arsenal/Spurs/whatever’s chances in the league, but then be rendered virtually mute with a “beam me up Scotty” expression when she wants to talk about their relationship.
Whereas, while us women – again with notable exceptions – generally tend to be far more open about anything that’s bothering us and seek the advice of family and friends to help us through it, men feel the need to appear self-reliant so are more likely to hide what they’re feeling.
I pride myself on being a good pal to others and regularly “water” my friendships with contact, both via phone and face to face. And when I got divorced, they repaid that loyalty in spades. I remember one particular day when, shortly after my ex had moved out, the house was looking a little dusty and sparse and I mentioned on our group WhatsApp that I was spending the day cleaning and reorganising it to look nicer for potential buyers. An hour or so later, the doorbell went, and outside were five mates who live locally
