The sheets are rumpled, and the smell of sex is still in the air. It’s that moment of post-sex bliss where you don’t feel self-conscious about your stomach rolls, and you’re desperate just to touch their skin. With my head on their chest, they tell me that they think we’re “just better as friends.” I still have to go pee to avoid a UTI from the furious intercourse we just had. I can see a scratch blooming on their skin from my nails, and they’re telling me that we’re just more of a friend vibe. Oh. “Of course, of course,” I agree.
They watch as I hop about trying to find my clothes, which had been hastily shed in what I had stupidly exclaimed to them was “some of the best sex I’ve ever had” before I had been feverishly friend-zoned. I can’t find my underwear, so I leave it behind in my desperation to escape, only to be reminded about it in a message days later.
I am no stranger to friend-zoning and being friend-zoned. Sometimes, a person just isn’t into you the way you’re into them. This is the fate of the universe, Aristotle would tell us, as we can’t all just be fucking each other (though it does sound like a fun Friday night). But there is something uniquely painful about being friend-zoned post-coitus. Like you have been inside me in some form or another, and now I am being welcomed inside your friend group, all of whom suck. This is not what I had in mind when I went down on you.
But if social media and happy hour margaritas have taught me anything, it’s that I’ve never had an original experience, thought, or feeling in my entire life — and the fuckable friend is one of them. Case in point, TikTok is going wild with an audio clip from (500) Days of Summer — you know, that one scene where she breaks up with him and says they should be friends.
Every Millennial just flinched at that title, as this is a film we have never quite gotten over, in the same way that Tom couldn’t get over Summer. It’s not a cult classic, and it’s not in the romcom hall of fame, but it remains forever ingrained in our consciousness, just out of reach, tugged into the ether whenever we get post-sex friend-zoned. Welp, Gen Z has just discovered this agonizing film, which has tormented the rest of us for the last decade.
TikTok wants to talk about 500 Days of Summer and the fucking agony of being friend zoned after sex? Sure, let’s do it, but saddle up for a wild ride.
(500) Days of Summer is unfortunately relatable as fuck
If you’re one of those people who only watch films that “contribute to the cultural zeitgeist” and somehow didn’t have a Joseph Gordon Levitt phase (it’s still happening, hit me up, Joe), lemme run you through the plot of (500) Days of Summer real quick.
Tom (Joseph Gordon Getmenaked) meets Summer (doe-eyed Zooey Deschanel) at the company where they both work. She gives total pick-me-girl energy when she reveals she likes The Smiths, just like him. Yeah, that’s where that one TikTok sound is from, my babies. They flirt at karaoke, and Summer reveals she doesn’t believe in love, so they embark on a very casual relationship. (Hey Alexa, play “Casual” by Chappell Roan.)
Blah blah, they fuck, they fight, they kiss, they laugh, they fuck, they fight, and so forth. One very notable argument happens after Tom fights a dude trying to pick up Summer in a bar, and she claims they are just friends. This is when the iconic quote occurs, which has now been making its rounds on TikTok. Tom interrupts her and says, “No! Don’t pull that with me! This is not how you treat your friend! Kissing in the copy room? Holding hands in IKEA? Shower sex? Come on! Friends, my balls!’”
@joyd.vis.on (500) Days of Summer |#500daysofsummer #josephgordenlevitt #TheSmiths #thisnighthasopenedmyeyes ♬ This Night Has Opened My Eyes (2011 Remaster) – The Smiths
Unfortunately this scene encapsulates the very real experience of being friend zoned by someone who has seen you naked many times. TikTok users are accompanying this sound bite with their own feelings about being friend-zoned after sex. Giving someone the most intimate parts of yourself only to then be called a “friend,” as if you’re on the same level with Bobby, who they play flag football with, and Jake from the office, who sends them memes from South Park. Okay.
It pains me to say that this seems to be another tenant in the agony of girlhood. I casually asked my Instagram followers if they had experienced the post-sex friend zone and holy fuck, I got a lot of replies.
Betty had a situationship turn to a friend turn to nothing and explained how utterly shit it made her feel. She mentioned visiting him for an amazing weekend and how “after that weekend, contact kinda drifted off, and I got fed up hurting my own feelings trying to keep contact.”
Rosalie says she finds it strange they couldn’t communicate beforehand. “Like, did you know that you just wanted to be friends before we had sex? Couldn’t you have prefaced that before we had sex? Just be honest, I don’t know, I think it’s weird.”
Emma adds, “He got what he wanted then hit me with the ‘I don’t wanna string you along, let’s be friends.’”
Oh, and it’s not just men. Andy shared her own sapphic tale of the post-sex friend zone, which in true queer fashion was friends-to-lovers-to-friends. “Afterwards, I thought we could continue, but then she got a bit distant,” she shares. “We had a small fight due to some miscommunications, she started seeing someone else, and it took like one to two months before we were friends again.”
Why does getting friend-zoned after sex hurt so much more?
It goes without saying that sex isn’t the only form of intimacy. But it is a pretty vulnerable form of intimacy. It’s not just the nakedness — although not everyone has seen my tits, especially post-college days. I’ve always found the best sex comes from the giving and taking of power. Scream-worthy sex comes from releasing control to someone else, trusting them with your body, your pleasure, your dignity, your feelings, your sexual health, and so much more. That isn’t to say you can’t have good casual sex, as all of this can come from a casual rodeo partner, as long as there is mutual respect involved.
So when that sex is followed by someone demoting you to the friend zone, it fucking hurts. It shouldn’t be a reflection of you, and it isn’t, I swear, but it FUCKING FEELS LIKE IT IS. You can’t help but wonder what you did wrong. If you’d taken them deeper into your mouth, would they still want to be just friends? If you’d slotted in another position or magically learned how to bend your body like a sexy pretzel, would you be worthy of more than friends? When did they make this decision???
It goes without saying that you’re perfect, and it’s not about you, but it can feel hard to remember this in the moment. It can feel like you failed a sex test, especially if that sex happened multiple times and you’re not getting promoted anytime soon. I’ve spent so many walks home in smudged mascara and rumpled panties, wondering, “Why was I only good enough to fuck?”
Because I don’t know about you, but I don’t make a habit of fucking my friends (much to their relief). I am a thirsty girlie, but I keep friends off-limits. My friends are people I do not want to fuck. With my friends, I like to chat, gossip, vent, travel, laugh, explore, debate, and all that jazz. They’re the ones I talk to about my sex life. They don’t have a front-row seat for it.
Over the years, I have switched between trying to be a Summer and feeling like a Tom. I have boldly claimed I don’t believe in love and never want to get married. I have felt outraged at being friend-zoned by someone whose spit is still drying on my skin. I have been the one before “the one” and felt the agony of watching a commitment-phobe buy a house and get a cat with someone. To that, to them, to it all, I echo Joseph Gordon Fuckmenow and say, “Friends, my balls!!!!”
