There was a phase in my life when I felt surrounded by friends. While I was never truly “popular,” it wasn’t unusual to find a lively group of us lounging in someone’s living room, filled with laughter, spontaneity, and youthful exuberance.
Reaching out to someone for a hangout was as easy as calling out from the next room or hopping on a bike or taking a cab. “What are you up to?” someone would ask. Typically, the answer was a carefree “Nothing!”
Fast forward to today, and that same question would be met with an overwhelming list of tasks and obligations. The notion of having “nothing” to do is almost laughable in its absurdity.
Spontaneity? What is that?
Now, organizing a meetup takes days, weeks, or even months of careful scheduling. And even then, it often feels chaotic and tinged with guilt, as if we’re neglecting responsibilities by daring to take a break for some much-needed time with friends.
Friendship has transformed into something quieter, softer, and in many ways, more profound. Yet, it can also be challenging.
In our younger years, friendship was as simple as crossing the hall or picking up the phone to say, “I’ve got some wine, and I’m on my way.” I long for those times. I miss lengthy conversations that could meander for hours because we had nowhere else to be. I miss the ease of borrowing clothes and makeup without a second thought and the routine of watching our favorite shows together.
As our lives grow more complex, with partners and children depending on us, friendships often take a backseat. They become harder to nurture, especially when spontaneous gatherings become difficult amid the chaos of life’s responsibilities—burning dinners, homework crises, and early morning wake-up calls.
Consequently, our circle of friends narrows. It must. We evolve. Life throws challenges our way, and we strive to make the best of it, whether that means lemonade or vodka lemon drops. But along the way, we inevitably change. Our priorities shift, revealing that the person we used to be isn’t necessarily who we are now or who we aspire to be.
Our patience for superficial connections diminishes, and we come to recognize that we have no space for insincere friends. We seek authenticity or nothing at all.
This can often feel isolating, particularly when those genuine friends aren’t just a door away—or even in the same town.
But here’s the truth: I don’t want a multitude of half-hearted friends. I desire companions who will share tears and dreams without belittling my feelings. I want friends who understand when I need to leave a gathering early, without pressuring me into staying.
I yearn for friendships where I can be raw and honest, where awkward moments don’t lead to discomfort. I want people who notice when I go quiet because life feels overwhelming and I’m too drained to articulate it.
I want friends who understand that Peanut Butter (not caramel, peanut butter) Twix bars can brighten my day. I crave friendships where I’m invited over for pizza, even when my loud kids tag along. I seek those who genuinely ask, “How are you REALLY doing?” and won’t settle for a mere “fine,” knowing that life is rarely just “fine.”
I want those with whom I can laugh until I cry and cry until I laugh, who understand the trials of raising tweens and teens. I wish for friends who empathize when I share, “I cried in my car in the driveway today,” nodding in understanding because they’ve likely had their own moments of vulnerability.
I want friends who will step in to help pick up my kids from basketball practice if I’m running late, or who will trust me to feed their fish while they’re away. I want friends who send me chocolates after the loss of a pet, who call me from the doctor’s office with troubling news, and who can share a plate of nachos while discussing absolutely nothing.
I need honest friends who will guide me away from poor decisions and those brave enough to join me on adventures that might lead to regret if left undone. I want friends who are real and genuinely care about each other’s lives because we both know that authenticity matters.
I don’t want a sea of lukewarm, insincere friendships. I seek the genuine article—nothing more, nothing less.
In summary, as life progresses and responsibilities mount, the quest for authentic friendships becomes paramount. We must prioritize relationships that are true, supportive, and uplifting, while letting go of the superficial connections that no longer serve us.
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