Navigating Friendships as An Adult

Friendship in adulthood is… tricky. It’s not the constant sleepovers or lunchroom loyalty tests anymore. It’s quieter, more fluid, and often confusing. I’ve spent a lot of time untangling what friendship really looks like for me — and why some relationships feel effortless, while others can occasionally feel like an obligation.

I’m sure you’ve had some variation of these conversations, like the front row friends vs the second and third, codependency vs low-maintenance, or the friends you turn to for advice and the friends who are always down for adventures. I’ve dabbled in them all, and I can understand the value they bring to the table. However, over the years, I’ve re-evaluated what I want my friendships to look like.

I’ve been listening to Mel Robbins’ Let Them, and she lays out the three pillars of friendship as proximity, timing, and energy. She also illustrates the transition of developing friendships – how, as a kid, it’s a group activity and how uncomfortable it can be to grow out of that as you get to college/adulthood, and realize that people are no longer in the exact same chapter as you, able to commit the same amount of time and energy as you are.

This really resonates with me because as we know… I’ve moved a lot. Those have been big moves with big changes; people my age in South Carolina were married and ready to start families, and people my age in Texas are still on the dating scene and clinging to their youth. The proximity and timing could not be more varied. And it doesn’t matter how much you love someone, the differences get loud when one person is bar hopping on a Thursday night, while others are looking into which daycare they’d feel comfortable dropping their kid at. And when it comes to energy… switching jobs, navigating finances, family, Phoebe… I am rarely available in the way I’d like to be for the people I care about.

All of this has made me think about the friendships that have lasted. What do they have in common?

The longest friendships I’ve had have always been low-maintenance. The ones where we don’t talk for months, but are always there when needed. And always pick up right immediately where we left off. These friendships have sustained both the physical distance and the distance in where we’re at in life. But most importantly, they’ve evolved with how much one another can afford to invest in the relationships.

I acknowledge the downside to this, though. The low-maintenance friendships don’t always reach the same level of depth as others may. There are many things I don’t get to see — I recently met up with a longtime friend and realized how much of their life I’ve missed in the in-between. The inside jokes I’m not part of, the milestones I only see on Instagram. It’s bittersweet.

So what actually makes a friendship work? Here are the values that have stood out to me over time…

The Most Important Characteristics of a Friendship

• Supporting each other – not necessarily their choices, but as the foundation of a support system.
• Seeing each other at the worst, but not bringing it up again. It’s not your job to parent the people in your life (even if you think they need it). You can watch people make the same mistake over and over again, but it’s not cash money to rub their nose in it when the same outcome happens each time. The people who mean the most to me have always been a safe space for me, and I do my best to be a safe space for them.
• Not taking it personally. Unfortunately, I am not the most reliable, and I’ll be the first to admit it. I want to be there for everyone in my life, but I do not have the energy to. It’s so important for me to have people in my life who give me the space to work through things in the way I want to, without the guilt trips.

At the end of the day, I’ve learned that friendship isn’t about constant closeness — it’s about mutual understanding, space, and evolution. Not everyone will stay in your front row forever, but some will always hold a permanent seat — even from afar.

Let them cancel. Let them disappear for a season. Let them live their life on a different rhythm than yours. That’s what I’ve been learning — not just about others, but about myself, too.