Urban Dictionary, a “crowdsourced online dictionary for slang words and phrases,” defines friends with benefits as:
Two friends who trust each other enough to engage in sexual activity without fear of hurting the other’s feelings. Ideal scenario for folk who are not interested in a serious relationship… Not a boyfriend or girlfriend; neither party has to refrain from dating other people. … A smart alternative to random hook-ups. (Urban Dictionary)
I have some problems with this definition and am here to deduce why “friends with benefits” is a system set up for failure, designed to fuel its own demise. I am a victim of failed friends with benefits relationships, and this is my story.
Through my worldview, there are three distinct outcomes (among other, equally problematic outcomes) where friends with benefits — amusing, simplistic and baggage-free as it may sound — are predestined for doom. (1) One partner will be too invested in the other and end up heartbroken. (2) One or both partners will be so under-invested in one another/discouraged by the sex that the friends-with-benefits situation will gradually fade to nothing, not even friendship. (3) One or both partners will be so over-invested in one another that friends with benefits will gradually morph into a “situationship,” eventually developing into a full-blown endgame, or unstoppable relationship.
Hitting the ground running, we will begin with the first path to failure: interest in the opposite member of the FWB situation not being equal, an inevitable road to heartbreak. Have you ever had a crush that is so utterly unreciprocated you have to resort to completely avoiding that person? I recall my 5th grade Valentine’s Day Dance. I was so in love with the gangliest boy in my grade, who happened to be one of my closest friends, that I found myself actively ending up on the opposite side of the dance floor to avoid the all-too-painful view of him and his date of choice. Not even Usher’s “DJ Got Us Fallin’ In Love” could numb my pain. Even though I have matured to the soundtracks of Phoebe Bridgers and Chappell Roan’s “Casual,” the philosophy remains the same: If one party is more invested than the other, friends with benefits simply will not work. You can lie to yourself as much as you want, but love conquers all, even if it is not reciprocated. It is impossible to fake platonic-ness.
Next on the docket, we have an arguably more unfortunate end to an FWB ordeal: The sex is bad, or the parties in question realize that sex is slowly ruining an authentic closeness. The once-pure friendship in question gradually fades into nothing. Imagine a beautiful friendship … Now imagine that great friend gnawing down full canines on that dick; there is no redemption. If you love someone, it is easy to say, “Hey, please don’t do that,” or “I’d actually prefer this instead.” Even if you’re good friends, it may feel natural to provide constructive criticism. But the unfortunate truth is that the ick exists for a reason and is extremely difficult to overcome. It is a survival instinct. Once someone bites your clit or calls you mommy during round one, it can be difficult to view that person as a friend ever again. This is a very reasonable path to the demise of FWB. Sex is one facilitator of the ick, but it could also come from something as simple as seeing someone’s weirdly shaped nipples or watching them chew food the wrong way — sometimes one party just becomes uninterested and, unfortunately, the friendship is often unsalvageable.
Finally, we have the outcome which I fear I am a victim of, and has inspired this formal breakdown. It’s a little something I like to call the FWB → situationship → endgame pipeline. This process less formally refers to the gradual progression of a friends-with-benefits situation ending in both parties falling a little too hopelessly in like (as in, like-like) with one another. As reproductively motivated creatures at our cores, we are primally conditioned to enjoy sex as a mode of procreation to further a bloodline. Secondarily, we go for sex as a method of recreational pleasure. But the reality of 21st-century simp culture is that sex can easily lead to one or both parties catching feels. When executed in what I would call the most enjoyable way, sex is inherently correlated with emotional connection. Eye contact, laughter, vulnerability. It feels impossible to have enjoyable, satisfying sex without falling a little bit in love. If you have a partner — a friend — who cares and is perceptive enough to value your orgasm, fuck, that’s an endgame. How can you stay casual friends after that? If anyone has figured it out, I wish you would have contacted me a month ago when I was not-so-seriously swearing myself to celibacy in 2024.
Regardless of the FWB outcome you live in fear of, I would advise you to steer clear of the situation as a whole. You will either end up with an ex-closest friend, or a life’s partner when you least expected it. Everyone is better off committing to whichever outcome best fits them rather than arriving there by accident.
Annie Position is a student at Cornell University. Comments can be sent to [email protected]. The Sin Series runs during alternate Sex on Thursdays this semester.