14 Sep The Art of Friendship: Finding Balance, Banter, and Belonging

Friendships. Sigh.

I really don’t know why I’m writing this or if I’ll even hit publish. I’m also not sure why I started with that word. It’s not like I don’t have friends. I’ve had plenty, and honestly, all of them have been enough for whatever role they played at the time.

I’m struggling to find the words. There’s something I know needs to be said, even if it’s messy. So, let’s see where this takes me.

Friendships have always been a tricky space for me, ever since childhood. Growing up, it felt like I lived in three scenarios: either part of a big group, or with one close friend, or with none at all. In kindergarten through third grade, I had one friend until one day she became someone else’s best friend. Grades 4 and 5 brought a new friend who left school the next year. By Grades 6 and 7, I was pretty much a loner at school, but I found a friend at home who stuck with me until she moved away. Grades 8 and 9 had a few scattered friendships, and by Grade 10, I was back to flying solo. It wasn’t until Grades 11 and 12 that I finally started building friendships that felt stickier.

I’m sharing this not to sound tragic, but because childhood friendships form the memories you carry into adulthood. My core memories really only began when I was sixteen. Some of those memories are so beautiful they’ve stuck with me all these years. Given how brief or unstable my early friendships were, it’s wild to think that I’ve been friends with a few people for almost two decades. If you’re reading this, yes – I’m calling you out. We made it! 

I’ve lost friendships, too. Some slipped away with time, others because of ego, one because of illness, and a few because of sheer ungratefulness. But this isn’t about the ones I lost. It’s about the ones I found, the ones that stood by me, and the ones that keep popping up when I least expect them.

I don’t want to sound like I’m writing a sad poem, but some friendships have been deeply nourishing. Others have taught me a simple truth: no matter how much you’re willing to run beside someone, if they aren’t willing to meet you halfway, the connection won’t last. And honestly, I don’t believe friendship is some neat two-way road; it’s a bit of a balancing act. Some friends might check in every week, others might disappear for months. Sometimes you’re the one reaching out because that’s how relationships work. It’s not mandatory, but it’s one of those unspoken rules: to support, uplift, or just be present when someone needs it. Isn’t that what friendship’s all about? Or have I still not cracked the code?

The most wholesome friendships often happen when you expect the least. I’ve had this happen twice on trips where I met people who somehow just got me. They laughed at my stupid jokes and tolerated my sarcasm every time without asking for more. They didn’t need anything from me; they just enjoyed being in the same space, comfortable in silence or silliness. Honestly, I never thought I’d form new, meaningful friendships at 33. Given my chronic social battery issues, also finding mom friends is basically a miracle.

So why am I writing this? Two reasons.

First, to thank the friends who’ve stood by me, the ones I lost, and the ones who lost me. Thank you for the love, the lessons, and the memories. These friendships gave me the belonging I missed out on in my early years, and I cherish them more than I can say.

Second, to remind myself and anyone reading that friendship doesn’t need to be complicated. It doesn’t need constant check-ins or grand gestures. It only needs to be open and honest. (Oh, and a lot of banters too) Everything else will fall into place. 

So here’s to friendships that stand the test of time, to those that surprise us when we least expect it, and to the ones that teach us how to be better humans, even when we’re figuring it all out as we go.