friendship should be easy

the joy of low maintenance friendship

Everything I Know About Long Distance Friendship

After moving internationally three times in the past five years, one thing I know to be true is that you can’t stay close to everyone you want to. 

Research proves it. British anthropologist Robin Dunbar’s theory “holds we can only really maintain about 150 connections at once” (BBC). If you have more than 150 people in your close circles, his work maintains that you’ll need to make room for new ones. “People migrate in and out of these layers, but the idea is that space has to be carved out for any new entrants.” (BBC)

I’ve always found some comfort in Dunbar’s number because it validated the overwhelm I feel trying to keep up with all the lovely people I’ve met throughout my life, that I genuinely like and want to be close to, but just simply can’t. Even knowing this, for a long time I felt deep shame when a friendship ended.

Is it okay for friendships to end?

When I first moved out of the US, some of my friendships changed. I’m sure to my friends I felt distant, emotionally and physically, as I tried to figure out my new life in a new country. Every day I fell into bed feeling like my brain was breaking to not only learn the language, but a completely different culture.

Being MIA was understandable for the first month after I moved, but after a few months, I had some tough conversations with friends who wanted me to be more available. In the end, I just couldn’t be. Those friendships came to a rather abrupt end. 

If this had happened to me earlier in my life, I would have been wrecked. I used to believe that if a friendship ends, someone must have done something wrong, and most likely it was me. But over time, I’ve come to understand that not all friendships are meant to last forever. Sometimes friendships are for a moment or a season. They can change, evolve, and even end, to no one’s fault. 

When I was growing up I thought all friendships should be for life, not realizing that was something I saw our parents and grandparents do because they had largely stayed in the same place for the majority of their lives. In a world where you grow up in the same town that you go to school in, meet your partner in, and have a family in, it makes sense that your friendships could last a lifetime. But in a world where you might change cities and communities five times before the age of twenty-one, it would be impossible to stay close to everyone you know. 

What are the factors for friendships that last? 

There has been a lot written about friendship break-ups, and for the purpose of this newsletter, I’m less interested in the friendships that have ended. Instead, I want to look at the ones that have endured. 

These friendships have been life-changing. They give my life meaning. Amplifying my existing joy, supporting me when I need recalibrating, and showing up to bear witness to the important moments in life, my friends have deeply changed me. They hold space and reflect back who they see in me, which is always a better, smarter, more generous version of the story my critical internal monologue writes about myself.

Even though I’ve moved several times over the past years, my close friends have stayed relatively consistent. When other relationships floundered, why did these ones flourish? 

At first glance, it’s not obvious. These friends actually don't have a ton of similarities nor did they come from the same place. I’ve collected amazing people throughout all walks of my life, be it my first job or study abroad semester or through friends of a friend. But they all have one thing in common. 

These friendships are easy. 

It’s funny, because one might assume that making great friendships work could take a great amount of work. But interestingly enough, my strongest friendships are the easiest ones. Whether they are the strongest because they are the easiest, or the easiest because they are the strongest, I’m not quite sure. If I had to analyze them, I think these friendships work because expectations are aligned. 

They’re not complicated. When we’re in the same place, we see each other. When one of us thinks of each other, we write to each other. I appreciate them and I feel like they appreciate me. I’m not anxious that I’m disappointing them in some mysterious way or that I’m failing the friendship. There’s a mutual understanding that we love and care about each other, but we don’t need to constantly reaffirm that. 

The definition of low maintenance is “requiring little work to keep in good condition” and I’d say these friendships are just that. Low maintenance sounds like a gross way to describe friendship, but what I mean is that we aren’t constantly in touch. We don’t have a weekly check-in or regular catch-ups. Sometimes we don’t see each other in-person for months. 

But let me be clear, low maintenance friendships are not effortless. 

Actually, I think making an effort is the magic touch that keeps them going. It’s not about daily check-ins or liking social media posts, it’s about making the effort and being there for the moments that matter. 

Recently, I flipped through the photos from my going-away party in New York, the party I hosted when I published my first byline, my wedding, and the events I hosted for work. At each of those events, there were friends who’ve made huge efforts throughout our history of friendship. 

I saw the friends who made signs and waited for me at the end of the New York Marathon. The friends who have visited me in every country I’ve ever lived in. The friends who held me when I sobbed through every heartbreak. The friends who so proudly supported me as I stopped drinking. That have read every newsletter and supported every side project I start. 

And in the same way, I thought of the efforts I have made. The resumes and cover letters I’ve been so happy to proofread. The events I have been delighted to host in their honor. The distances I have gone to show my friends that I care about them.  

My friends have moved mountains for me and I would move mountains for them. But just as important as effort, friendship is also about ease. Because as much as I would do anything for them, I also love doing nothing with them. Sitting on the couch and talking for hours. Walking without a destination and catching up. I just love being around them. 

And it’s not just friends I have known for a long time. I have more recent friends too who have this exact energy to them. I can be in their city and message them asking them to get coffee and they respond with delight. Not disappointment for how I haven’t stayed in touch, or a reprimand for how I could be better. They’re happy to show up and go to a workout class or visit an exhibition and catch up again the next time we see each other, whenever that may be. 

There’s something magical about these friendships that I can’t put my finger on. Excuse me for the woo woo, but the energetic balance of them is just right. No one wants anything from each other. Everything is extra. It’s fun. Friendship should be from a place of abundance. Friendship shouldn’t make you anxious. You shouldn’t feel guilty. You should feel appreciated, cherished, and seen. 

Friendships transform with time

I think of friendships as living and breathing entities. Sometimes there is more energy and space for them, sometimes they need to go dormant for a while. If you’re both willing to be patient, understanding, and give the benefit of the doubt, that’s when a friendship can endure, and transform into all the shapes it needs to. A relationship has to adapt to the space it has.

As life gets more complicated as we get older, and we add more responsibilities, like childcare, aging parents, career obligations, and generally more demands on our time, I find myself pulling closer to the friendships that transform as we do. 

I hold them in my heart and I know they are holding me in theirs. Even if we don’t tell each other all the time. We aren’t there for everything, but we are there for the important things. And for these friendships, that’s enough.