“Don’t choose the better guy, choose the guy that’s gonna make you the better girl.”
— This Means War, 2012

Movies often tell us to make a pros and cons list when picking a partner, but what about making that list when it comes to picking our friends? It seems like a lot of people going through similar growth journeys end up coming to the same realization — people you choose to spend your time with can directly affect the nature of your environment.

If we’re looking for a space free from toxicity, then why do we often hang around the people who constantly nit-pick and judge others? At what point do we check-in with ourselves and evaluate such a prominent and ground-breaking question, how do our friends truly make us feel? What do they leave us with, when all is said and done? A feeling of peace and serenity? Or a taste no matter how much you brush your teeth right after, you can’t get rid of?

I get the feeling of not wanting to be alone, but why is it such a common tendency for us to want to be in the midst of a crowd yet allow ourselves to feel so lonely? Why do we constantly endure such a strange reality? I mean, how could we let this feeling become so popular? Surely, being alone can’t be that bad, right? Well, at the end of the day, I’d vouch to say it all just depends on where a person is at in their particular stage of life, but maybe that’s what makes the epiphany to change so sweet.

We all know hanging around the right people would make us feel better, but we ignore that fact until one day it just…hits. It becomes so clear and taking that first step back from the people who no longer serve us becomes a little easier. But having that initial pros and cons list is what helps us realize our ideal environment and what our needs are in any nurturing relationship.

However, no village can thrive if the road only runs one way — it takes two. So, something I’m learning as I write is to put my words into action and hold myself accountable to the same standard. Sure, research is nice and having what seems to be all the answers to my lingering questions is nicer, but what does it actually do for my life if I’m not implementing them?

Therefore, I’ve already expressed my desire for better friendships, but in doing research on what makes a good friend, I realized that as much as I point the finger on what my own friend group lacks, what am I actually doing to be a better friend myself? For instance, if I were to be confronted by one of my friends who thought I was being inconsiderate due to the audacity I’d have to describe them as lacking in drive or ambition and they were to ask me what I’m personally doing to be considered as driven or ambitious, what would I say as my answer? What am I actually doing? How can I feed and nourish my friends the same way I would like to be fed and nourished? Am I living by example? Am I leading by example? Am I encouraging them to be real go-getters and try new things? Am I showing up and being consistent when they need me to? How many calls have I allowed to go to voicemail? How many “I’m okay’s” have I let slide? Do I make my friends feel safe? Can they take a deep breath and exhale comfortably around me? What am I actually doing for them?

My head is spinning. The concept that I’m not meeting the standard makes me toss and turn in my sleep. Why haven’t I ever asked these questions before? And how can I checkmark all the boxes going forward? Why all of a sudden does it feel like I’ve only been thinking about myself? 

Well, there’s only one thing left to do:

Take accountability.

And just like that, my goal to cultivate stimulating relationships just became a two-way street.

And though each response presented a well thought-out answer as to how I could better my approach at friendship, I wondered how I could track my progress in order to be certain I’m making a dent in becoming the kind of friend they need me to be. 

Here’s how:

1. Journaling — This might be an autistic solution of mine but by keeping a small log of the times I’ve reached out to check in on a friend or the times I’ve showed up for them both physically and emotionally when it mattered the most, I can safely make the assumption that I am doing the work needed to show up for the people I care about.
2. Self-reflection — By taking a moment, whether it be after interacting with my friends or after a particular encounter, I can do a personal check-in and ask myself the following questions: Did I do what I said I would do for them? Was I being present in our conversations or was I distracted or on my phone? Was there a balance between us talking about each other’s lives or did I mainly carry the conversation by making it about myself?
3. Invite Feedback — Invite vulnerability. By asking if I’m showing up in the way they’re needing me to, I can reach a better understanding of where I’m at on the scale. Being a friend and having a friend are two different things. The same way I want the people in my corner to show up for me, the expectation is that I’m returning the favor; the truth is, everyone needs someone they can rely on.

After making the decision to cultivate a community in which I’d be emotionally nurtured and mentally stimulated, I realized that it wasn’t just good friends that I was wanted — I want to be a good friend, because that’s what makes a village.

And so, I’ll take the wheel; hold myself accountable and take the steps necessary to be the friend my friends deserve. It’s easy to want better relationships, but the real work begins when we ask ourselves how we show up, how we listen, and how we create space for others to be seen and supported. Because at the end of the day, community begins with us.

So, I invite you to reflect on your own village. In what ways could you be a better friend to those around you? And how do you create a safe space for your friends to be themselves?

Think about it.

Cheers,
B.