Ride or die 🤷🏽♀️
Every time I say I want to do something but have nobody to do it with, someone inevitably says, “Just go alone.”
I KNOW I can go alone, Susan. 🤦🏽♀️ That’s not the point.
The point is that at almost 42 years old, I’m still wondering why I’ve never had that ride-or-die friend. The one who calls just because. The one who says, “Let’s go,” without needing a reason. The one who shows up.
For years I blamed military life. I thought all the moving was the reason friendships never lasted. But lately I’ve started noticing a pattern. I’m the person people reach out to when they need something. I’m the person who does the inviting. I’m the person who gets told “maybe next time” while watching everyone else make time for each other.
And before anyone says it, yes, I know social media isn’t real life. But the same people who tell me I’m “too much” on social media are often the same people who never call, never text, never invite, and somehow still have opinions about what I should or shouldn’t share.
So respectfully, if you’re not going to be a present friend, keep your opinions to yourself. 🙃
People think I don’t notice. I do.
I notice who gets a yes when I get a no.
I notice who gets invited when I don’t.
I notice who remembers me when they need something.
And honestly? It’s okay. I’m not a $100 bill. I’m not everyone’s cup of tea. I never expected to be.
What I wish is that people would stop pretending. Stop giving excuses. Stop being fake. Just be honest.
I know I’m different. I know I’m a lot. I know I don’t fit neatly into everyone’s world. But it gets exhausting always being expected to adapt to everyone else’s world while nobody ever tries to step into mine.
At this point in my life, all I ask from a friendship is honesty, loyalty, and don’t talk about me behind my back. That’s it.
Have I cut people off? Absolutely. Because no matter how much I want friends, I would rather be alone than surrounded by people who don’t genuinely care about me.
Maybe that’s the real problem. Not that I can do things alone. It’s that after all these years, I’m tired of feeling like I’m supposed to.
Over the years, I have learned an important lesson about friendships: quality always matters more than quantity. It’s not about having many acquaintances but having a few people who truly show up and care unconditionally. From my own experience, I’ve realized that genuine friendships are rooted in empathy, authenticity, and mutual respect — qualities that aren’t always easy to find. The desire for a "ride-or-die" friend goes beyond social convenience. It’s about feeling understood and supported, someone who reaches out simply because they want to share a moment or experience life together. When that doesn’t happen, it’s easy to feel isolated—even if you can do things alone. The key difference is wanting companionship that feels effortless and genuine. I’ve noticed that being honest about what I need in friendships has helped me focus on the people who truly value me. It’s exhausting to constantly adapt to others’ expectations without ever having someone step into your world authentically. True friends don’t just appear out of nowhere—they come with shared values like loyalty and respect, the kind that doesn’t talk behind your back but uplifts and inspires you to grow. Social media can sometimes blur the line between real connections and surface-level interactions. While it’s a great tool for staying connected, it can also highlight who is truly present and who only pays attention when it’s convenient for them. Recognizing this has empowered me to set healthy boundaries and to seek friendships based on sincerity, not appearances. Lastly, it’s okay to walk away from relationships that don’t bring positivity or genuine care into your life. Choosing solitude over superficial company can be a deeply healing and empowering decision. After all, everyone deserves at least one friend who will say "let’s go" without a second thought and who calls just because they genuinely miss you. That’s the kind of friendship worth holding on to, and it’s never too late to find or build it.
