The Friendship Every Woman Deserves
Pour yourself a cup of coffee, Bestie. Let's talk for a few minutes.
To be honest, I never expected a fifty-year friendship to become one of the things people noticed most. I thought people would ask about the boat or the lake. Instead, they wanted to know about her—who she was, how long we'd been friends, and how two women could laugh like that after all these years.
Again and again, I read comments like, "I wish I had a friend like that." Others wanted to know how long we'd known each other, while many simply wrote, "Everyone deserves a best friend."
Those comments stayed with me because they made me realize just how many women are longing for deeper connection.
My best friend and I have known each other for more than fifty years. We actually met in nursery school, long before either of us had any idea what life would eventually have in store. Our parents became the best of friends, which meant we grew up side by side, spending countless weekends, vacations, holidays, birthday parties, and ordinary afternoons together. Somewhere along the way, we also made it our life's mission to lovingly torture her little sister. Looking back, we're both hoping she escaped childhood with only minimal emotional damage. If she's reading this...we're sorry. Mostly.
Life has taken us through just about every season imaginable. We've celebrated marriages and babies, survived heartbreak, built careers, watched our children grow up, and stood beside each other through some of life's greatest joys and deepest disappointments.
Now, before I make this friendship sound perfect, let me be the first to tell you it hasn't been. There was a period of nearly five years when we didn't speak.
Ironically, it happened because we allowed the very thing we had promised each other we never would—men—to interfere with our friendship. Looking back, neither of us is proud of it. We let outside circumstances become more important than a relationship that had already stood the test of decades.
Then, one day, my phone buzzed.
Five simple words.
"I miss you like hell."
There wasn't a long explanation. No debate over who was right. No reopening old wounds.
Just five words.
Somehow, they were enough.
We picked up almost as though those five years had never happened.
The whole story deserves its own Coffee Conversation, and I promise I'll tell it someday.
What our friendship taught me is that relationships don't last because they're perfect. They last because, somewhere along the way, someone chooses humility over being right, grace over pride, and connection over distance. They last because someone is willing to send the text, make the call, or simply say, "I miss you like hell."
As I've gotten older, I've realized that friendship isn't a luxury. It's part of our well-being. It's the person who laughs with you until your stomach hurts, tells you the truth when you need to hear it, celebrates your victories without envy, and quietly reminds you who you are when you've temporarily forgotten.
Over the years, I've also come to believe something that doesn't always fit neatly into society's expectations. We often hear that the people we're closest to should be the ones we're related to by blood. I've learned that life isn't always that simple. Some of the people who have felt the most like family to me don't share my DNA, and not every person who shares my last name has been my closest friend or even a friend at all. I've come to believe that love, trust, loyalty, and showing up for one another are what create family—not biology alone.
That's probably another Coffee Conversation for another day.
I also know not everyone has that person right now. Some friendships naturally fade as our lives move in different directions. Some end because we've changed. Others simply drift apart because careers, children, aging parents, and responsibilities slowly consume the time we once had so freely.
But I don't believe a meaningful friendship has an expiration date.
I think one of the greatest myths we tell ourselves is that if we didn't find our people, or perhaps lost our people, in high school or college, we've somehow missed our chance. I don't believe that for one minute. Some of the most meaningful friendships of our lives may still be waiting for us - some new and perhaps some rekindled.
Maybe today's the day you send five simple words.
"I miss you like hell."
Until next time,
Kat