I’ve told you the story of my first impression of you probably a million times over the course of our friendship, but for the people who haven’t had the pleasure of having a front-row seat to the Mia and Allie Show, this is how I met my best friend. 

It was the first day of fifth grade, I walked into Mrs. Smith’s classroom and frantically fought for my seat at the “girls” table. I knew a couple of the people I was sitting next to from Thornapple, but as everyone secured their seats, I noticed that one seat was left open. Given how much everyone wanted to be next to their friends, I thought it was odd to have an empty seat at such a sought-after table, but I quickly realized that the general consensus amongst the girls was that they were saving that particular seat for a girl named Mia. 

They were all so eager to save you a seat and make sure that they got to sit next to you, that, of course, you piqued my interest. As I was a new kid just the year prior, I thought how nice it must feel to have friends fighting to sit next to you before you have even stepped foot in the classroom. Naturally, I was nervous to meet you. I thought of all the possibilities of who you might be. Truth be told, I was slightly scared you might be a “popular mean girl,” given the way everyone wanted to be your friend. 

However, I was incredibly mistaken. That day you made your way into the classroom—fashionably late per usual—and you took your seat. Now, I don’t remember your exact outfit, but if I had to guess, I might assume hot pink Dr. Martens were involved. Despite your anticipated arrival, I have no doubt that I introduced myself first—securing my part as the extroverted one of the two of us. Now, the details from that point on are pretty fuzzy, but somewhere between playing infected at recess and inspiring me to get my own pair of Dr. Martens for my birthday that year, you became my best friend. 

Now many, many years later, you turned 18, and in a few short weeks, I will also be 18. We will officially have spent the majority of our childhood being best friends, and we will certainly be spending the rest of adulthood the same way. 

I love the way that we will text and call for hours on end about things that don’t matter to anyone else. I love the way we are always thinking the same thing, and you can tell how I am feeling from one look. I love the way you have never once judged me for my hatred of driving and instead took on the responsibility of being my personal chauffeur. I love the way we have both collectively agreed I speak the thoughts you think. I love the way my family loves you as much as I do. I love the way you are my best friend. 

Although I know we both secretly wish we could stay 17 forever, I hope you know that if I have to grow up, I am thankful I get to do it with you. Happy Birthday!