I Learned the Value of Adult Friendships From My Barbie

A few weeks before my 43rd birthday, I jokingly asked in a group text, "Should we all dress up as Barbie when we go out for my birthday?" The reply from two of my best girlfriends was a resounding yes.

As we started to plan my birthday weekend, the excitement grew. The women in my birthday squad scoured the internet for the best bright-pink outfits, and we decided our partners should dress in matching Ken shorts outfits. We also ordered everything from pink-heart sunglasses to Barbie party favors.

Since I live by the beach, we had already planned to hit the sand before our nighttime plans. We extended our theme to our beach day in the form of pink swimsuits, adult Capri Suns with edible pink glitter, and a pink "snackle box" — a tackle box I purchased to fill with treats.

The pandemic changed the way most of us celebrated our birthdays in the past several years. While I had hosted small dinners with friends or weekend getaways with family, it had been several years since I had a big birthday celebration. I'm a Leo who loves her birthday, so finally getting to celebrate in a big way felt long overdue.

From making the "snackle box" filled with cheese, charcuterie, and sandwiches, to setting up beach tents to provide my guests with shade, the beach day took a lot of prep work. But entertaining is one of the ways I like to show the people closest to me that I love them, so it felt worth the work.

Additionally, some of my friends traveled quite a long way to attend my celebration; some of them flew in from New Jersey to visit me in Florida for the day, while another friend drove 90 minutes to be there, so it was important to me to show them some love in return.

The older I get, the worse I feel after a night — or long day — of drinking alcohol. But one of the joys of being in my 40s is knowing myself well enough to take good care of my body. Instead of slamming back multiple adult Capri Suns filled with vodka and pink lemonade all day, I took a few sips here and there and focused on drinking water instead.

Heading out in my small beach town dressed as Barbies and Kens produced many, "Hi, Barbie," moments, just like in the movie. People seemed genuinely thrilled with our getups and I received more, "Happy birthday, Barbies," than I could count. It was a reminder that when you show up somewhere full of happiness, it's contagious.

At one of my favorite Mediterranean restaurants, we shared a delicious meal where everyone, from a neighbor to the restaurant's belly dancer came over to wish me a happy birthday. In fact, I also got up from my chair and danced with the belly dancer — at her request.

After dinner, my Barbie and Ken squad visited three of my favorite local dive bars. There was dancing, karaoke, and even a live band. We shared laughs and made so many memories as we ventured from bar to bar (with a designated driver). The experience made me so grateful for my small town, the people who live there, and my friends.

When one friend bought a round of Jell-O shots for the table, I wondered whether I was turning 43 or 23. It had been years since a Jell-O shot touched my lips, but in the spirit of a good bar-crawl birthday party, I had one — and then another. I was immediately reminded why I was never a fan of the boozy, sugary concoctions and laughed when my friend asked whether the alcohol they were made with was "actually nail polish remover."

As a woman raising a daughter in trying times, I find it easy to feel like the world is against us. America Ferrera's iconic monologue from "Barbie" about what it's like to be a woman today hit home for me, as well as my teenage daughter and most of my friends.

"You have to never get old, never be rude, never show off, never be selfish, never fall down, never fail, never show fear, never get out of line," she says in the film. "It's too hard." I agree.

In a year in which Margot Robbie and her crew of Barbies made women feel seen and heard, celebrating my 43rd birthday as a Barbie felt right. Enjoying the evening, surrounded by some of the strong women in my life and our wonderful Kens, felt worth all the prep work and shopping — and maybe even the slight hangover the next day.

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