Okay, controversial take incoming:
My Best Friend's Wedding is the most realistic rom-com ever made.
Not because of the fashion (though that cream suit? Iconic).
Not because of the karaoke scene (though "I Say a Little Prayer" is chef's kiss).
But because it's the only rom-com that had the audacity to tell the truth about something we don't want to admit:
Sometimes what you think is love is actually just... convenient companionship. And when that ends, you're going to be okay anyway.
I know, I know. We're supposed to hate this movie. Rom-coms are supposed to give us the happy ending, the last-minute confession, the guy realizing he picked the wrong girl.
But My Best Friend's Wedding looked at that formula and said: "Actually, let's talk about what's really happening here."
And honestly? I respect it.
The Friendship that Was Never Really Just a Friendship
Here's what Jules (Julia Roberts) and Michael (Dermot Mulroney) actually had:
A pseudo-relationship.
The kind where you have a built-in +1 for weddings. Where you always have someone to call when you're bored or lonely or need to feel wanted. Where you get all the emotional benefits of a relationship without any of the actual commitment or risk.
It's comfortable. It's safe. It keeps you from feeling pathetic about being single because technically you're not alone.
And for a lot of us? That hits uncomfortably close to home.
Because we've been there. Or we're there now.
The male best friend who texts you at midnight. The female best friend who's always available when his girlfriend isn't around. The person who makes you feel special but never actually chooses you.
It's not quite dating. It's not quite friendship.
It's the emotional equivalent of living in the in-between—and it works until it doesn't.
Was Jules Even Really in Love?
Here's the thing I can't stop thinking about:
Was Jules actually in love with Michael? Or did she just hate losing?
Because the movie makes it pretty clear: Jules is competitive. She's a winner. She's used to getting what she wants.
And suddenly, Michael—her Michael, the guy who's been her safety net for years—is marrying someone else.
Someone younger. Sweeter. Less complicated.
And Jules can't stand it.
But is that love? Or is that just ego?
The movie never fully answers this, and I think that's the point.
Maybe Jules loved him. Maybe she just loved the idea of him—the one who was always supposed to be there, the backup plan, the guy who made her feel chosen even when she wasn't choosing him back.
We'll never know.
But what we do know is this: the friendship wasn't serving either of them anymore.
The Truth about Male/Female Best Friendships
Let's be honest: Male/female best friendships almost never work long-term.
I'm not saying they can't exist. I'm saying they rarely survive unscathed.
Because eventually, one of two things happens:
- One person catches feelings and gets hurt when the other one doesn't feel the same way.
- One person starts dating someone else, and the "friendship" becomes weirdly inappropriate or just... fades.
My Best Friend's Wedding shows us Option 1 in real time.
Jules thought she could keep Michael in this emotional holding pattern forever. She thought the pseudo-relationship would always be there when she needed it.
But then Kimmy (Cameron Diaz) showed up, and Michael chose an actual relationship over an emotional safety net.
And Jules? She got burned.
Not because Michael was cruel. Not because Kimmy was the villain.
But because that's what happens when you mistake convenience for connection.
Why This Movie Hits So Hard
Here's why My Best Friend's Wedding makes us so uncomfortable:
It forces us to look at the relationships we're holding onto that aren't actually serving us.
The guy who texts but never commits. The friend who keeps you on the hook "just in case." The pseudo-relationship that feels good enough to keep you from looking for something real.
And it says: This isn't love. This is a placeholder.
And when the placeholder ends—and it will end—you're going to feel it.
You're going to spiral. You're going to sabotage. You're going to do desperate, embarrassing things because losing something that almost felt like love is somehow worse than losing actual love.
But here's the other thing the movie says:
You're going to survive it.
The Ending We Didn't Want (but Needed)
Jules doesn't get Michael.
She doesn't get a last-minute redemption arc or a consolation prize romance.
She gets Rupert Everett (the true MVP of this film) dancing with her at the wedding reception, telling her she'll be okay.
And you know what?
She will be.
Because the movie trusts us—and Jules—to handle the truth:
You don't need a man to complete your story.
Your life isn't over just because you lost the guy you thought was "yours."
Sometimes the most important relationship you need to fix is the one with yourself.
That's not tragic. That's just real.
And honestly? It's more hopeful than any last-minute airport chase could ever be.
Why We Still Avoid This Movie
I think we avoid My Best Friend's Wedding because it tells us things we don't want to hear:
- That we might be the Jules in someone else's story
- That the "friendship" we're clinging to might not be as mutual as we think
- That we're going to have to let go and move on eventually
- That we'll be okay without the person we thought we needed
We'd rather escape into an HEA where the girl gets the guy, where feelings are reciprocated, where timing works out perfectly.
And listen—we need those stories too.
But we also need My Best Friend's Wedding.
We need the story that says: Sometimes you lose. Sometimes you're too late. Sometimes the person you thought was yours was never really yours to begin with.
And your life goes on anyway.
Not perfectly. Not tied up in a bow.
But forward. Always forward.
And maybe—just maybe—that's the most romantic ending of all.
Because it means you're strong enough to survive it.
So Here's My Hot Take
My Best Friend's Wedding isn't a failed rom-com.
It's the bravest one.
It looked at the formula and said, "What if we told the uncomfortable truth?"
And the truth is:
You're going to be okay without him.
You're going to survive the loss of the pseudo-relationship that was keeping you safe.
You're going to let go of the emotional placeholder and make room for something real.
And life—your real, actual, beautiful life—is going to keep going.
What do you think? Have you ever been Jules? Or had a friendship that felt like this? Reply and tell me—I want to know if this one hits for you too.
xoxo, Abs
Currently spiraling about:
- 💔 the number of emotional placeholders I've mistaken for actual relationships (it's fine, I'm fine)
- 🎶 how Rupert Everett saved that entire movie with the moves of a jungle cat
- 📞 whether that guy who used to text me at midnight ever actually liked me or just liked having options (narrator: it was options)
P.S. Speaking of timing and second chances—my Amsterdam book drops in less than two weeks. (Eeek!) It's about a therapist who runs into the photographer she let go a decade ago, and this time, the timing might actually be right. Because sometimes you do get a second chance. And sometimes, that's the miracle.
