I Like My Husband's Friends More Than My Own

It was a Saturday afternoon, and I was cozy on a couch in the Catskills watching the Yankees. I was with my husband and a few of his friends and their wives. I was missing a birthday party at some hot new Lower East Side spot that my girlies were going to, and the Instagram stories were a vibe. A year ago, this would have sent me into a tailspin, but, suddenly, I noticed that I didn’t care. This was the FOMO-free moment when I realized: I like my husband’s friends better than my own.

To be clear: I love my girlfriends. They make me cry from laughter; they appreciate monkey memes as much as I do; they’re always around to help when I’m spiraling. But after more than five years of hanging with my husband’s inner circle, I’ve discovered that I enjoy myself a whole lot more when I’m with guys in their 40s versus women in their 30s, and I’m as surprised as anyone.

But did you know that men in their 40s love doing nothing? They don’t ask you to take 200 photos of them for a ’fit pic. Nobody’s stressed about what they’re wearing. Dancing till 2 a.m. at the buzziest club downtown isn’t at the top of their priority list. Instead, they’re into (in no particular order): being comfy, maybe watching some true crime, commiserating about the way their partner loads the dishwasher.

Yes, it’s a mood to admit to preferring a partner’s squad over your own, but it turns out there is an upside to the whole thing: You’re getting new friends as part of a package deal, whether you like it or not — and everyone knows that making friends as an adult is a very hard, very humbling ordeal. Your boyfriend’s pals can be hit or miss, but when they hit, it can feel a lot like winning the lottery.

My S.O.’s friends fit the bill for me because A, they’re older, and B, they’re extremely chill. (No hate to my girlies, but when they fight over a misinterpreted text, it sends me.) Instead of wanting to spend late nights at a bar, guys in their 40s are all about playing cards, going to dinner at a decent hour, and, well, doing nothing at one of their homes. Note that two out of three activities can be done while lounging on the couch. These activities are very appealing to my inner Golden Girl. I know that my friends probably have their own bed rot days, but they’ve never been into a communal horizontal hang; their preferred hangouts involve schlepping, sipping, and spending money, each of which I’ve grown increasingly tired of doing.

I’m not declaring myself to be a total bump on a log, but, IMO, older men just really know how to live life — and living life, to me, is preferably Relaxing Hard when I’m not working. Sure, I’m down for an occasional evening cocktail or gossipy brunch, but nine times out of 10, I’m opting for group enrichment time in an enclosure. Seriously: It’s not them, it’s me.