There was a time when I thought being a good friend meant talking all the time.
You called each other every day. You knew what was going on. You made plans constantly. If somebody disappeared for a few days, you noticed.
Now?
I might not talk to you for two weeks and genuinely think we’re fine.
That’s probably one of the biggest things I’ve learned about friendship as I’ve gotten older: I don’t need constant communication to feel connected to somebody.
I’m a pretty low-maintenance friend.
Not because I don’t care about people. My life is just usually full.
I have four kids, a husband, a job, a home, family responsibilities, things I’m working on for myself, and about seventeen things running through my head at any given time. Some weeks are packed from beginning to end. Sometimes I barely have enough time to keep up with the people who live under my own roof, let alone maintain a social calendar.
But if we’re friends, I’m not sitting around keeping track of how long it’s been since we talked.
I might see your message and respond later.
I might think about calling you and then get distracted by something happening in my house.
I might go weeks without seeing you and then pick right back up when we finally do.
And I don’t expect you to take that personally.
I don’t need a friendship that requires constant proof that we still care about each other.
That’s something I didn’t always understand.
When you’re younger, friendship is much more present in your everyday life. You’re around the same people all the time. You see them at school, at work, at parties, on weekends. There’s usually some built-in reason to communicate.
Adulthood removes a lot of that.
Everyone starts building their own life.
People get married. Have children. Move. Change jobs. Start businesses. Take care of parents. Deal with things privately. Become consumed by careers, family and responsibilities you couldn’t have imagined when you were younger.
Your friend can love you and still have a completely different life happening five states away.
And you can love them without needing to be involved in every part of it.
I actually like that about adult friendship.
There’s something comforting about knowing I can have a lot going on without worrying that somebody is going to decide I don’t care about them because I haven’t called lately.
If we’re close, you already know me.
You know that if something important happens, I’ll be there.
You know that if you need me, you can reach out.
You know that I can disappear into my own little world for a while and still come back talking like we never stopped.
That’s the kind of friendship I value.
There are people I don’t talk to every day who I would absolutely show up for.
There are people I can go months without seeing and still genuinely love.
There are people I may not know every detail of their current life, but I know who they are at their core because I’ve known them long enough to understand them beyond the constant updates.
I don’t need a daily report to maintain a friendship.
At the same time, I’ve learned that not everyone experiences friendship that way.
Some people need more communication.
Some people feel loved through frequent calls, texts, plans and check-ins.
Some people want to know what’s happening in your life as it’s happening.
Neither approach is wrong.
But I think it’s important to recognize the difference instead of automatically assuming that one person cares more because they communicate more.
I’ve had friendships where the other person needed more from me than I naturally give, and I’ve had to understand that their needs weren’t necessarily unreasonable.
They just weren’t mine.
That’s where friendship can get complicated.
Because being low-maintenance doesn’t mean being emotionally unavailable.
There’s a difference.
I’m not interested in friendships where we only talk when it’s convenient and never show up for each other. I still want effort. I still want honesty. I still want people who genuinely care about what’s happening in my life.
I just don’t need that care demonstrated every single day.
And I don’t want to be made to feel guilty for having a full life.
I’ve also gotten more comfortable with friendships changing.
There are people who were once a huge part of my everyday life who aren’t anymore.
Some of those changes happened naturally.
Some happened because our lives went in completely different directions.
Some friendships ended because something happened that couldn’t be repaired.
And some simply became quieter.
I don’t think every friendship that becomes less active has to be labeled a failed friendship.
Sometimes you just don’t have the same access to each other anymore.
That doesn’t erase what the friendship was.
I can look back at certain friendships and appreciate exactly what they meant to me during that period of my life without needing to recreate them today.
There are people who knew a version of me that doesn’t exist anymore.
They knew me before marriage, before four kids, before buying a house, before working from home, before life looked anything like it does now.
Of course our relationships changed.
I changed.
They changed.
The lives we were building changed.
That’s part of growing up.
And then there are the friendships that survive all of that.
Those are special.
The people who can meet the new version of you without constantly comparing her to the old one.
The people who understand that you may be busy without assuming you’re uninterested.
The people who can give you space without disappearing completely.
The people who don’t need to be reminded where they stand with you every few days.
Those friendships feel different.
They have room to breathe.
I think that’s what I appreciate most about being an adult friend now. There’s less pressure to perform friendship.
I don’t need to post you every birthday to prove we’re close.
I don’t need to see you every weekend.
I don’t need to know every detail of your life.
And you don’t need to know every detail of mine.
We can have our own lives and still have a place in each other’s.
Of course, there are times when friendships require more.
If you’re going through something, I want to know.
If you need me, tell me.
If something is wrong between us, I’d rather you say it than quietly build resentment because I didn’t realize you needed more from me.
Low-maintenance doesn’t mean mind-reading.
It means I don’t need constant maintenance to feel secure in the friendship.
There’s also something to be said for friendships where you can be honest about that.
I have a lot going on most of the time.
That’s not going to change anytime soon.
My children are growing. My career is changing. I’m building things. I’m figuring out who I am in this stage of my life, just like everybody else is.
There will be seasons where I’m more available.
There will be seasons where I’m not.
And I want friendships that can exist through both.
I don’t think friendship has to be measured by how often two people talk.
I’d rather measure it by what happens when life actually gets real.
Who can you call?
Who can you trust?
Who can celebrate you without competing with you?
Who can tell you the truth without trying to tear you down?
Who can pick up the phone after months and still make you laugh?
Who can give you space without making you earn your way back into the friendship?
Those are the things I notice now.
Because as I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized that I don’t have the time or energy to maintain relationships simply because we’re supposed to.
I want friendships that feel mutual.
Comfortable.
Real.
Friendships where neither person has to constantly prove that they care.
So no, we might not talk like we used to.
I might not call you every day.
I might take a little while to respond.
I might be knee-deep in work, kids, family, or whatever else life has thrown at me.
But if we’re really friends, you don’t have to wonder whether I care just because you haven’t heard from me this week.
I’m probably just busy living the life we’ve both been growing up to have.
And when we finally talk, I’ll probably pick up right where we left off.
