Things I wish someone had told me in my 20s about friendships &...

1. Bonding over common interests is a trap:
Down the line, your friends' hearts and characters will matter much more than how similar your interests are.
The older you get, the more the degree to which you have your ducks in a row starts to impact friendships.
This won't always be obvious.
Betrayal and breach of trust are a different beast, and more likely to damage it.

(Consider this thread a growing library on the topic)🧵
When someone’s going through a rough period and shows up worse, treat them with the same love as when they are in great spirits.
However:
Rasons are non-linear but when they become clear, the cost will be high. There are still ways to love & support them.
(This applies to the way you talk about others too.)
It's worth getting clear about this so you can honor each other's.

People often shrug their shoulders & say “life just got in the way”.
But more commonly, what got in the way was hidden assumptions about friendship itself.
88 questions to ask your friends that help prevent this🧵(@threadapalooza)
And that you enjoy the time you have with them fully.
Treasure the shape it has now.
When possible, try not to postpone what the connection inspires between you now.
And try not to cling to what it used to, because it stops you from seeing the shape it has today.
Its worth being aware of this.
If not, it might seem like others are overreacting or don't care enough.

Hidden power imbalances in friendships.
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FIRST EXAMPLE:
I have a friend for whom I a represent about 20% of his total group of close friends.
But he is about 1% of mine.
It may not look like it. But that's a huge hidden power imbalance.
If I want to have a deep talk with someone who knows me intimately, and he is unavailable, I have 99 more people to call.
But in the other direction, if I am unavailable, he only has 4.
In other words:
When he is available, that's a blessing to me. Because I love spending time with him.
But when he is not, that doesn't trigger any negative feelings in me.
However, if he needs to talk and I am not available, there's a chance I'm the 3rd, or 4th 5th person he asks.
Me not being available can trigger feelings of abandonment.
Such a power imbalance can have huge implications.
Let's say he feels a mild resentment towards me. Will he bring it up and theoretically risk conflict?
He might intuitively choose not to bring it up, because if it goes wrong, it could cost him 20% of his friends.
For me it would me much lower risk to be firm in my boundaries and clear about my feelings.
Any actions I take or do not take towards him can also cause a bigger impact on the relationship.
So there's an imbalance in how much care is required from my side, if I want to honor the connection equally and keep the commitment balanced.
If I value the friendship, it will be higher maintenance than my other friendships.
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SECOND EXAMPLE:
My partner has a friend where the imbalance is pretty similar.
Sometimes the friend will ask her for favors which seem rather weird. (As in: Why would she ask YOU specifically?)
We were a bit puzzled by this at first.
But once again, this hidden power imbalance is the cause:
When you have an abundance of friendships, you can ask favors from the specific people who are experts in such things, or can recommend someone who is.
But when you have a small number of friends, you ask favors to whomever is most likely to be available.
This means that when one person has a lot less friends, they might end up having to ask a lot more favors (many of which don't feel natural to grant) while the side with a lot more friends will naturally ask less because they'll only do so when it's specific.
In my experience, people with a lot of friends don't do a lot of "social accounting" (how many favors did I give vs them, etc.).
But if the side with fewer friends is someone who does does, they'll also feel more hurt by rejected favors, or more guilt when all their favors are granted but none asked in return.
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I've seen similar things play out in dating and business as well, but that's a whole nother can of worms to get into.
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Curious to hear your thoughts on this:
No matter where you fall on the spectrum, how do these power imbalances play out for you?
How do you deal with them or handle them in a way that honors all people involved?
Still a living inquiry for me at the moment.
Initiating fun for your friends goes a long way.
Make sure to not use this as a substitute for 1:1 time though. (Been there, regretted that.)
A more useful frame for me has been "what parting gifts do I want to give / what parting gifts did I receive and not recognize as such".

It's energetically saying to the other person:
"I refuse to move until you ____ (do what I believe would create closure)."
In that sense, the need for closure is an attempt to reclaim our power after an experience of loss we felt powerless to.
By demanding the closure we believe we are owed, we attempt to claim that power back.
But when we stake our healing on another person’s response, we unknowingly place our heart in their hands, hoping they will return it whole.
In doing so, we actually offer our heart as a hostage, waiting for an outcome we cannot control.
So in the attempt to claim our power back, we're giving our power away.
The way to truly reclaim the power is not to deny our need for closure but to hold it with tenderness,
To ask:
What within me is seeking resolution?
What pain is longing to be witnessed?
Finding the ability within ourselves to accept and move forward—maybe even to forgive—can be an act of radical self-liberation.
None of this denies that receiving proper closure can be a beautiful and healing experience (or that in an ideal world, relational accountability would be taken by all parties at all times).
When closure is offered with care, it can indeed facilitate the restoration of inner trust, dignity, and peace.
But when it is withheld or impossible, we do have the power to offer ourselves the understanding we seek.
And the times we most crave closure are often the times it is least available to us.
So the inquiry is:
In which way am I using the concept of closure as a horcrux for the continued experience of victimhood?
And in which way can I use it as a doorway back to myself?
This is harder to learn when you get older (due to public perception).
But when deep down people don't believe they could make new friends, they often tolerate terrible social dynamics.

My peers spent age 15-25 sitting in classrooms, studying or playing video games.
I spent it talking to strangers each day, practicing skills & learning harsh life lessons.
Still yielding dividends.
If you remember this, magical things will happen.
(Unless they explicitly told you not to.)
Your frequency of interactions is likely to go down as you age. Which means every moment matters more.