How to Friend
A few weeks ago, I sat down with a friend. I've known them for some time, long enough to notice the patterns in their struggles.
This particular evening, it was clear they were caught again in a familiar loop.
Initially, I felt a pang of judgment arise, quietly asking myself, "Is this someone I still want to spend my time with?"
I've long believed we are influenced by the company we keep. It's a quiet belief, not one that demands immediate action, but something I gently hold as true. As I listened to my friend speak, my internal voice started questioning the energy between us. Their challenges were heavy, and in that moment, uninspiring to me. I was unsure if this was a place I wanted to linger.
Yet, as we continued talking, I found my judgment softened, replaced slowly by a quiet curiosity.
The longer I stayed present, the clearer my friend's world became to me. I asked questions, wanting to understand the "why" beneath the repeating patterns. As their story unfolded, my own past experiences surfaced naturally, echoing in my memory. Soon, I found myself sharing my stories—stories of similar challenges, similar feelings, similar loops I'd known intimately.
As I spoke, an unexpected shift happened in my inner world.
My judgment quietly turned inward. I recalled moments when I had been caught in the same loops, stuck and unable to break free. There was a flicker of self-criticism, but it quickly gave way to empathy. I genuinely understood my friend's place because I had occupied that very space myself. Compassion replaced curiosity, and soon I was invested in helping, motivated to offer the insights and strategies I wished someone had shared with me earlier.
We spoke deeply, vulnerably, honestly. By the end of the conversation, I felt energized, inspired by what we had uncovered together. What started as a hesitant encounter had transformed into something uplifting, rich with shared understanding.
In the days following, I found myself reflecting on that evening. My initial hesitation about spending time with my friend had been based on criteria that now felt superficial—how successful or positive or inspiring they were. But what I realized clearly was that the true measure of friendship isn’t about who my friends were externally. Instead, it is about who I am when I am with them. Did I like me in their company? Am I proud of how I show up? Am I energized or drained by my own presence?
This simple shift in perspective begins to illuminate many of my interactions.
Recently, returning to Lisbon and reconnecting with friends I haven't seen since last year, I've been quietly observing myself. How do I feel in their company? How do I show up? How present, curious, and authentic am I? It’s more about me than it is about them, surprisingly.
Friendship is an invitation to vulnerability precisely because the stakes are low. It's not transactional; there's nothing to achieve or prove. Friendship allows me to experiment with showing up fully, expressing myself honestly without the pressures of consequence. In this safe, gentle space, I can see clearly who I become around others. And in many ways, learn about myself, my thoughts and my feelings.
Lately, I've liked that person—the one who listens deeply, who responds with compassion, who shares openly, and who learns eagerly. The judgment I once felt toward others now gently redirects inward as a question: who am I becoming in this moment, in their company?
Friendship is less about choosing who is worth spending my time with and more about noticing how I feel around others. How I choose to show up shapes the space we share. I am gently observing and appreciating who I become when I'm with them.
And that is how I learned to friend.
