“Maybe I was meant to be the village I never had. Or the friend I asked the Universe for like tooth fairy money.”

Sometimes it stings having to accept that you don’t have any friends to rely on. It’s like an indie character being grossly overlooked until they hit their breaking point. Feeling left out, unsupported, and alone? Here’s an unfiltered story on being your own village.

I’m about to bring back a memory that I’m sure my OGs remember well! Remember in The Rugrats Movie where Chuckie saw everyone dancing with their mom except him? That’s what it feels like to lead a life where friends haven’t been written in your script. It’s lonely and makes you challenge your worthiness as a person while also questioning your sacred trust in a friendship.

I remember I worked at one job—a few actually—where sisterhood was pushed to the forefront of the work culture. It seemed like The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants when it was really Gladiator in another retail store! (Cue The Middle by Zedd and Maren Morris.) It was meant to mask the cliques that existed—challenging the sister storyline. To be excluded and not chosen just made a short day feel like eternity, because why am I only worthy to be a friend when I’m needed? My car has probably seen me cry more times over this than a napkin ever has during a breakup!

We grew up watching shows like Girlfriends, Sex and the City, and even Lizzie McGuire (showing my Gen Z age arse again!) that it only seemed like a standard checklist to navigate life with sacred friendships.

Reality is that most people prefer to stay within circles that bring them standard comfort, because embracing differences is like trying pineapples on pizza. You hate it because it’s trendy to do so—until you try it and go, “Woah, this actually isn’t too bad.”

There’s a billion people on this planet, but it’s easy to feel alone when not even a half attempt is aligned with your soul compass.

It’s like someone telling you, “There’s plenty of fish out there,” only to find out it’s actually fish bones. No one wants a fish bone friendship where you’re given scraps—you want a friendship that drinks like a fish. Continuously pouring into you as you do them, like two besties pouring each other endless margaritas on a cruise.

Reciprocity wins at being more dead than chivalry, because there’s almost an air of entitlement that generosity is owed and not earned.

I remember swiping on Bumble until my fingers went numb, all for the guise of seeking friendships. I came across someone who was:

Just when I thought I was in my brunch and besties era, I was actually signed up for the chaos and co-dependency era. I was expected to be there front and center like a pocket therapist, because if the scales were balanced, you’d need to face your own truth, right?

I started thinking to myself, “I want friends, but I’m not desperate. Why am I getting anxiety over a passive-aggressive ‘Hello?’ text that reads like an entitled boss who texts you on the weekends?”

I was over it and decided to gracefully bow out, because there’s no way my car would once again witness me crying over friendships that were only surface-level.

Sometimes everything that you seek is actually all within you. I know, I know—I probably sound like those fake internet gurus that talk slowly as if that equals wisdom—but I truly mean that shit.

Yep, I cursed because you need to know that your tears aren’t meant to be spilled on the false ideas of friendships and supportive villages. That’s like deciding to add salt to a tasteless soup—leave the soup tasteless.

Seeing a group of friends enjoying lunch, or a bride who has a million bridesmaids, no longer bothers me. At the end of the day, you don’t know the dynamics behind the scenes. It’s not worth trying to align with the cardboard version of friendships that easily tip over when the air of truth and transparency hits it slightly.

I’m asking you to understand that you aren’t worthless if you don’t have friends.

You are only one step ahead of the curve when you see that friends are only an addition to your life—not a completion.

Now enough being sad because you have no one to go out for smoothies with you.

Get your jacket and get the smoothie.

This isn’t a blog. It’s a portal.

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