The Meaning Behind Amigo. Verb Not a Noun.

This year Sin Título hosted an Amigosgiving to bring community members together to mingle and break bread. As we were curating the meaning behind the mission, I reflected on the word friend. After pondering on the word and the relationships I’ve formed over the years, I came up with the event’s slogan: Amigo. Verb Not a Noun.

The power of a friendship is complex. It’s more than two people, it’s the essence of two people. A friend is a term that holds grand weight in my heart. Time cannot be bought. Think about that. The people you spend your time with is everything. To me, a friend is an actionable term. You put in the energy to be a friend. Hence, the slogan. It’s also healthy to know that friends aren’t always forever, they can be seasonal if the relationship no longer serves you. Or even worst, hurts you.

Although very happy memories, as I was reminiscing on my definition of friend, one past friendship still keeps my heart sensitive when I think of the word.

Back in 2016 I studied abroad in Barcelona. It was the best and worst summer of my life. Best because this was my first taste of making international movement. It was the worst because my brother past while I was nowhere near him and my family. I remember this vivid memory of me being on the phone with my mom telling her I wanted to go home, and she advised me to stay strong. I know you’re okay because you have [person’s name] with you. It brought her comfort knowing I had my best friend at the time with me.

With friendships, especially a best friendship, there will be times of highs and lows. In my opinion, the way one responds to low times is very telling of true identity. Little did I know that my best friend at the time became the most self-centered individual during my grieving months of my brother’s sudden pasting. Her priorities had resembled nothing to addressing my quiet crying nights and soul-less like moments. Strangers that I met at the beginning of the program were far greater friends than my so-called best friend. Bringing me flowers, texting me throughout the day, taking me to church, and cooking for me were all quality friendship actions they took. In comparison, [person’s name] gave me traumatic crying sessions due to me having to take care of her intoxicated when I couldn’t even help myself and completely ignoring my brother’s pasting to keep the fun times going.

The lonely yet physical presence of someone that my mom thought was going to comfort me hurt the most. And for the longest, I convinced myself she was a friend. I continued because society always placed us together as an inseparable unit and I didn’t want to explain the emotional toll she placed on my heart while I grieved. And even after we stopped being friends, I previously never spoke about the pain she caused me because she was someone I cared about.

When I finally realized that these self-centered actions and approaches to situations abroad and back in the States were traumatizing to myself and even other students in the program, I couldn’t continue saying But she’s my friend. Because during the lowest point in my life, she wasn’t any of the actionable traits of a friend. She instead caused more pain during this difficult time. I was using friend as the noun not the verb to justify being in that relationship.

In present time, I still have nightmares of her. However, I learned that the word friend is not a noun. It’s not meant for individuals that don’t care about you as you care for them or vice versa. When we hosted our Amigosgiving, I was beyond happy from ear to ear to see the atmosphere we created with our circle of people. The personality, connections, and the power of coming together was so strong in the room. I want more of those moments. More connections of genuine people in new and reoccurring settings.

I hope this brought you some reflection of people you cherish, but obviously also the people that no longer take up your space. Those were/are lessons learned. I know to protect my heart better in the future. Take a moment to love your action-forward homies.

Thank your rocks.