Where She Still Lives.

What Would I Do Without My Friends? Honestly, I don’t know—and I don’t like to think about it.

Friendship has always been essential to me. Not optional. Not a luxury. Absolutely essential.

If you know me, you know I like most people. I’m friendly, curious, and will strike up a conversation with just about anyone—my husband jokes that I’d talk to a wall if it talked back to me. People fascinate me. Everyone has something unique to offer, and I genuinely enjoy learning about their lives, their stories, and what has shaped them. You never know what you might discover from the person sitting next to you.

I’m not one for small talk, though. I skip past the surface and dive right in: Tell me everything. Who are you, really? I want to know you. This inquisitive nature has always been a part of me. I learned early on that people—just people—are the real teachers of life. Before the internet, before books, before podcasts and social media, there were just people, with stories to tell.

While my family has always given me love and support, I’ve come to understand that friends offer a different kind of emotional connection—one that complements, rather than replaces, what family provides. Throughout my life, my friendships have filled emotional spaces that family couldn’t always reach, not out of absence, but simply because the roles are different. Being surrounded by people from all walks of life has helped me see the world— and myself—through so many different perspectives. 

There are the ones I laugh with, the ones I cry with. The ones who nerd out with me over research and details. The ones who lovingly challenge my opinions. The ones who lead with their hearts, and the ones who live by their souls. Some are soft and gentle; others are vibrant and loud, with spirits that shine brighter than the sun.

There are those I rarely see, but when we reconnect, it’s like no time has passed. No explanations. No awkwardness. Just love.

And then there are the friends that were only meant to be in my life for a season or two. Some good, some not so good. These are the friendships that taught me some hard lessons and the only way to move on from them was to do so with gratitude.

And lastly, the friends who are more like sisters. At some point, they stopped registering as just friends—they became part of my foundation, a part of who I am. They are family.

The kind of trust I have in these women—all of my friends—is what helps me sleep at night. I’m not whole without them. Their love has cushioned my spirit on my worst days. Their love has kept me safe when I’ve been scared. And when my mother died,  when my heart was broken in a way I didn’t think could ever be repaired, their love held me. It carried me and kept me standing.

Yes, friendship can be complicated. It is a relationship, after all. But when it’s real, it’s rooted in support, not competition. In encouragement, not jealousy. And in presence when you don’t have the words. 

We’re all in this life thing together, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.