When I tell people who my best friend is, it’s usually the same reaction: confused eyebrows, awkward smiles, and a slight sense of judgment that I pretend not to notice. 

The truth is, while most people find their best friends in school or at work, I found mine when I was just one year old.

My life has been full of rocky moments. Whether it was my brother getting kicked out, friendship breakups, family members passing away, or just frustration with school, one thing has always remained constant: my cousin, Codie. 

Codie is the only person in the entire world who truly understands me, and she’s the only one who ever has. 

My entire life, I have been categorized as the weird, annoying kid. Growing up, I was always insecure about this trait, until Codie showed me that it’s okay to be yourself. She taught me that although the ‘normal’ kids may not accept me, she always would.

Whether it be eating Taco Bell in the car while dancing to Charlie Puth, watching shows we would be humiliated to tell anyone about, or escaping those boring family reunions, Codie has always been my partner in crime. 

If you have ever met Codie, you have met me. Although one of us (me) obviously has the better genes, Codie and I are direct copies of each other: we both have an unhealthy obsession with Taylor Swift, we both get a little too excited over McDonalds cookies, we both love to sing, the list goes on. 

Nothing about this makes Codie special, though. Friendship to most people just means someone you can hang out with when you’re bored, and laugh with when you’re sad. 

But Codie is much, much more than that for me.

When I received the call that my oldest brother had been in a bad wreck and was being life-flighted to KU Med, Codie was there in the car with me, asking which Taylor Swift album I needed to listen to. When our family members died, Codie would always be sitting right by my side on the pew, crying with me while passing the tissue box back and forth. 

No matter what, Codie has always been there for me. She has always been my rock.

That is what I call a friend. Not the girls who talk bad about me when I’m not there or the ones who only talk to me when they need help with an assignment, but the girl who will always know what to do to make me feel like myself again. 

Whether it be the three-minute drive that currently separates us, or the hours we will eventually be apart when we go to college, I know the distance between us will never affect my love for her. 

How? Because I’m only me when I’m with her.