what i'm learning about friendship

friendship is something i didn’t think much about until recent years. perhaps because it felt like one of those things that just... happened. you meet people in the place you spend the most time (for most, school or workplace), you click (if you're lucky), and now you’ve got friends (at least for some time, hopefully).

but over time, i started noticing my friendships drifting into weird limbos of rarely meeting, periods of stagnation in getting closer, or times when i wasn’t showing up the way i wanted to. i felt that i struggled to be a 'good friend', whatever that meant, and let a lot of people down while trying to figure things out. one day, i decided that i wanted to more critically explore what friendship means to me, to be better for the people i care about.

it hit me that a lot of us (including myself) approach friendship on autopilot. we don’t often pause to ask: what do i actually want from my friendships? am i being the kind of friend i’d want to have? is this relationship mutual and meaningful, or are we just coasting along?

so, with all that swirling around in my head, here are 3 lessons i’ve learned about friendship over the past year or so:

1. not all friendships are made equal, and that's okay

one of the most freeing realizations i’ve had is that friendships don’t all have to fit into the same mould. aristotle had an idea that there are three types of friendships, and i think it’s a really useful lens to look through:

first, there are friendships of utility – the ones where you’re connected because you can do something for each other. maybe it’s your work colleague who helps you survive endless meetings, or the neighbor you swap favours with (i’ll water your plants, you feed my cat). these friendships have a (often transactional) purpose.

then, there are friendships of pleasure – the ones that revolve around a shared activity or interest. these are the friends you play sports with every week, or hang out with at school or after work, or the group that loves the same fandom as you. they thrive on the joy of doing something together, but they’re often circumstantial. when the season changes (ie., when the activity ends or you stop seeing each other often) these friendships can fade.

finally, there are friendships of virtue – lifelong connections built on mutual respect, trust, and care. these are the friends who see you at your best and worst and stick with you anyway. they’re rare, and they take time to cultivate, but they’re the kind of friendships that endure the test of time.

what’s been eye-opening for me is deeply accepting that there’s beauty in all of these types of friendships. i used to think only the virtuous friendships were “worth it,” and i’d judge myself (or the relationship) if something didn’t feel it had room for mutual growth. but looking back, i can see how much joy and meaning those “for a reason” or “for a season” friendships have brought me.

at the same time, this framework raises a good question: are the friendships you have nourishing you? are you surrounded by the kind of connections you need right now? and are you being intentional about how you show up for them?

2. intimacy can be uncomfortable

the closer you get to the heart of someone, the more messy and hard it becomes – but also, the gems you find there are ever more brilliant and complex. intimacy sounds like such a warm, fuzzy word, but the reality of becoming intimate with a friend is more complicated. being close to someone doesn’t just entail deeper love and joy – it entails deeper everything: deeper hurt, deeper anger, deeper insecurities, and a much deeper need for patience and compassion.

it reminds me of this quote by visakan veerasamy about marriage:

“the thing nobody quite tells you about marriage is: you’re choosing the person in life who’s going to upset, disappoint, annoy, and frustrate you more than anybody else.

this is true even if your spouse is the least annoying, frustrating, upsetting person you know! because of base rates. for example, suppose the average person has a 10% chance of annoying me, and my wife has a 1% chance. i still hang with my wife much more than 10x than the average person.

spouses get to see the worst sides of each other more than anybody else, and so it’s very easy for people to learn to think more poorly of their spouses than other people—which is sad because there’s a sort of optical illusion / selection bias at play.”

i think this applies to close friendships too. the more multitudes of someone you get to see, the more intentional you must be in staying compassionate and kind. you have to hold space for their contradictions, their bad days, their quirks. you have to meet them where they're at with empathy.

we all have limits and boundaries — the points where it’s healthier to let go of a relationship than keep fighting for it. but what i’ve learned is that not all conflict is a bad sign. sometimes, it’s a sign you’re brushing up against your own comfort zone, confronting the sensitive points in your personality. intimacy is messy, but it’s also where the richest parts of connection live. if we can work through the mess, the gems on the other side are worth it.

3. friendships come alive in communal containers

friendship is hard. it takes effort to weave meaningful connections into our chaotic modern lives. there’s something called the 11-3-6 rule, which says it takes, on average, 11 encounters, each lasting about 3 hours, spread over 6 months, to transition from acquaintance to friend. sure, there are exceptions – you can sometimes bond deeply with someone in a short amount of time – but for most of us, this process is slow and laborious, especially if you don’t have a “container” that naturally brings you together, like work, school, congregation, or a shared hobby group.

that’s why community spaces can feel so socially nourishing. they give you a consistent place to show up, where you can see and be seen by others. just having a regular context to interact in removes so much of the logistical burden of friendship.

but consistency of encounter is not the only benefit of being a part of a community. communal spaces also give friendships a chance to evolve by exposing them to different contexts. most friendships stay stuck in the realm where they started. work friends stay work friends. friendships that are multi-dimensional tend to be stronger, but it’s rare for us to build those layers naturally.

communal spaces can help with that. they create opportunities for relationships to move across different terrains: light and deep, serious and silly, intellectual and emotional. each interaction becomes a new “knob” you and the other person can latch onto, pulling your connection in unexpected directions.

in kizuna collective, for example, we’re experimenting with this idea by offering a variety of gatherings. in any given month, there might be a philosophical book club, a group meditation, a coworking session, a deep-sharing circle, a hike, or a dinner party. each of these offers a new layer of connection, a new avenue for people to see each other, and a new context in which friendships can grow. the more knobs, the more potential for those connections to really come alive across intellectual, emotional, and maybe even spiritual dimensions. that's the idea, anyway.

friendship is messy, layered, and sometimes downright exhausting. but it’s also one of the most fulfilling parts of being human. whether it’s a friend for a reason, a season, or a lifetime, every connection has something to teach us.

so, here’s to showing up, leaning in, and letting friendships grow in all their imperfect, beautiful forms!