“It’ll be so easy to make friends—it’s such a transient town; everyone’s in the same boat.”
That’s the phrase I kept hearing over and over when I decided to move to Whistler seven-and-a-half years ago, when I was 22.
Usually that statement would be followed by, “I hear there’s a lot of Australians there,” or “It’s a town full of ski bums who came for winter and stayed for summer.”
They weren’t completely wrong.
There are, however, a few important facts those well-intentioned words-of-wisdom-givers conveniently left out. First of all, they neglected to mention the kind of friends you’ll make in this town.
With family thousands of kilometres away more often than not, the friendships you form here can turn into so much more than a group of people to grab an after-work drink with.
The casual acquaintances you meet up with in the lift line quickly become the people you call for a boost when your car battery dies in the cold. They’re the people who you celebrate birthdays, Thanksgivings and Christmases with; who make sure you stumble home safely after a big night, who never hesitate to share their favourite hidden spots on the mountain.
They’re the people you endure tough climbs and appreciate mind-blowing views with, who you can complain or laugh about the peculiarities of life in a mountain town for hours on end with—sentiments your friends back home might never be able to understand. They’re the people who take care of you after a breakup or an injury, who you turn to for advice, who have your coffee order memorized, who come sit in a cold arena to cheer you on when your beer league team makes it to the finals, who take care of your pets when you’re out of town. Stay long enough, and they’ll be the ones attending your bachelor party, wedding or baby shower. They quickly become your people. After all, Whistler tends to attract the good ones.
That’s why it’s so difficult when some of those friends inevitably leave town.
The other fact those advice-givers forgot to mention? Whistler’s transient nature might mean an endless stream of new arrivals looking for new friends, but it also means goodbyes are just as frequent.
You eventually get used to the two-year-long revolving door of new coworkers or neighbours here on working holiday visas, and an ever-growing list of longtime locals who decide they’d rather chase waves than snow, who follow their hearts or career ambitions to the other side of the globe, or decide that the cost or availability of housing in Whistler has finally tipped the scales in their hometown’s favour.
In the past four years, I’ve been to countless going-aways—two words I never would have thought to use as a noun before living in Whistler. I’ve been to two in the past two weeks alone.
No matter how happy you are for a friend embarking on their next chapter or how accustomed you’ve become to people coming and going, there’s always going to be a slight sting of disappointment when your favourite riding buddy or your most reliable coworker hits the road.
Sometimes you don’t know whether your paths will ever cross again. In other cases, the friendships are strong enough you know you will, but you just don’t know when or where. Best-case scenario, you know that person well enough to know Whistler will lure them back in a winter or two. Either way, experiencing that sting enough can trick you into believing that making friends with someone the federal government will kindly kick out in two years’ time isn’t worth the effort—I think we can all agree saying goodbye is never a good time.
But through the countless goodbyes Whistler has forced me to say, I’ve learned that sting is more painful if you dwell on the disappointment of another departure rather than focus on feeling grateful for everything that friendship added to your life.
Sure, some of those relationships will inevitably fizzle out as those friends move on and create new lives elsewhere. It takes more work to make a friendship function in different time zones than it does when you live a few minutes apart, after all.
The closer friendships will pick up where they left off the next time you find yourself in the same place, or better yet, stay just as strong despite the distance. Others will fade into nothing but fond memories and a supportive Instagram comment here and there. But that doesn’t negate the very real connections and memories you once made.
So cherish the friends you make in this not-so-little mountain town and the experiences you’re lucky enough to share with them. Do your best to keep in touch with the ones that leave, but don’t beat yourself up if you don’t. Be open to welcoming new ones into your circle.
And, always, remember to look on the bright side: racking up goodbyes in Whistler means racking up the number of couches you have to crash on across the globe. Because it’s not goodbye; it’s see you later.
