On friendship.

I’m by no means a perfect friend, but connection matters so much to me. Actually, I think it’s something that matters to all of us.

When I think about friends and friendships, it takes both effort and time to make friends, and then to actually maintain meaning.full friendships – but it is so worth it.

Often when we talk about dating, we remind people that it’s hard but worthwhile - that if what you ultimately want is a partnership, then it’s worth it to put in the time and risk and awkwardness and let your friends set you up or whatever. We expect dating to be an investment of time and energy, in service of meaningful partnership at some point. The same is true about friendship, and I think it’s helpful to talk about that. It’s work. It’s vulnerability and effort and time and energy, and I think it’s incredibly valuable - absolutely one of the greatest investments we can make with our time and our effort - but it doesn’t happen magically.

Lots of times when I talk about friendship with others, they say that they want deep, committed friendships…but they want it to sort of appear out of thin air without time and effort. They don’t want to make time. They don’t want to take the risk. They don’t want to invest over and over. And so I give them the bad news gently: that’s not how this works.

“Rejoice with those who rejoice & mourn with those who mourn…”- that’s a verse from Romans, and I think it’s basically a blueprint for how to be a good friend. This is what I think it means: being a friend is showing up for the wins and losses in someone’s life. Throw surprise picnics, go to dinner parties, celebrate good test results. And also: bring over dinner when they are sick, sit next to them when they’ve received bad news, leave flowers on the porch on a hard day. 

And to take it a little further, here’s a phrase I really, really, really love: “Walk to a wedding, run to a funeral.”

What that means is rejoice, of course, but absolutely make sure you show up when it’s time to mourn. It’s on the bad days that we need each other most - don’t miss those moments. Drop everything for those moments. Rearrange your world to be there for those moments. 

Every friendship will run into conflict at some point. Our culture is, generally speaking, conflict averse, and whenever I talk to people about what’s hard about friendship, they tell me about something painful between them and another person, and they’re surprised about it - they wonder what’s wrong with them, or what’s wrong with that friendship. 

But this is what I’ve learned: conflict doesn't mean a friendship is over. Conflict means a friendships is normal. 

If you want to develop one skill that can change every relationship in your life, it’s this one: learn to repair. Learn to forgive. Learn to say the hard thing. Learn to apologise - a full throated, no-excuse "I’m really sorry." Learn to make amends, learn to move forward after you’ve been wronged. Relationships run on repair and forgiveness. And don’t underestimate the importance of little reach-outs.

A text that just says “I saw this & it made me think of you”. A funny DM, an inside joke, a shared memory - these all mean more than you might think. They’re the glue, the connective tissue that seems light or silly but really goes a long way in terms of building warm connection over time. It lets someone know that you’re thinking of them even when they’re not right in front of you, and those little, light touches can mean so much - I know they mean so much to me. 

I’m sure you’ve heard this before, but there are some friendships that are best suited for the pavement, some that belong on the porch, and some that belong around the table. This idea’s been super helpful for me, because if I’m honest, I want every friendship to be as close as possible for as long as possible. I’m a builder by personality, and if I like someone, I want to bring them right into the centre of my relational world and keep them there forever. Guess what, though? Not everybody wants that kind of connection - some people want to stay on the pavement. And this is even harder: some people want to stay on my pavement, but someone else’s table. Ugh!

I’ve had to learn this one over and over: all you can do is accept what’s on offer. You can’t force a pavement friend to sit at your table. You can’t create something closer than what’s on offer, as much as you’d like to, and you’ll save yourself a lot of pain and frustration by consenting to reality instead of pretending or trying to force. 

For so long I wanted friendships that never changed, that remained consistent throughout seasons and transitions, but that’s just not how it works. Friendships change, and that’s okay. 

The friends you walked through your uni years with might not remain close when you take different career strategies. Friendships shift when you move and when you change jobs. Some friendshipe readjust and make it through those shifts with no problem and some don’t, and it’s okay to let friendship change as your life changes.

But also - and this is very important: don't ghost. It’s not hard to stay in touch in a warm, light way, even if the depth or closeness of the friendship has changed, but if for whatever reason you don’t want to or aren’t able to do that, honour the history of your friendship with a direct conversation. 

On the flipside, if you want a friendship to get a little deeper, start by sharing something a little deeper. It’s scary, but it’s also the thing that’s going to change the texture of the relationship. 

Years ago, I had a friend who I really cared about, but also I sensed a distance between us, almost a formality. For a while I told myself it was me - there was something wrong with me, or she didn’t really care about me. I pushed myself to take a risk and started a conversation that pushed us past that formality. I was nervous, and I wasn’t sure she’d meet me there. She did, though, and she shared with me the experiences in her past that taught her to hold people at a distance. It had nothing to do with me, and by taking the risk and inviting her into deeper connection, we were able to move forward in such a lovely, meaningful way. 

You see, friendship matters. Connection matters. There are moments and days when we really really need that sense of support and care, and there are other days when the most important thing we’ll do all day is offer that care and support to someone we love. 

When you wonder what makes a difference, in the greater context of a messy, complicated world, connection makes a difference. 

True friendship is a sacred, important thing, and it happens when we drop down into that deeper level of who we are, when we cross over into the broken, fragile parts of ourselves. We have to give something up in order to get friendship like that. We have to give up our need to be perceived as perfect. We have to give up our ability to control what people think of us. We have to overcome the fear that when they see the depths of who we are, they’ll leave. But what we give up is nothing in comparison to what this kind of friendship gives to us.

Friendship is about risk. Love is about risk. If we can control it and manage it and manufacture it, then it’s something else, but if it’s really love, really friendship, it’s a little scary around the edges.

When you find yourself at a loose end, feeling powerless or stuck, invest in connection. Send a text, even just a silly one. Be the first to apologise when things have gotten broken between you. Schedule a phone call with an old friend, or plan a trip. Send a funny meme, reach out for a hug, make a pot of soup and tell someone you love, to come on over.