I Water You, You Water Me
on platonic love
Platonic love, is a topic I find myself ruminating on quite often—especially around this time of the year when Galentine’s and Valentine’s Day celebrations fill my social media feed.
When I was in college, my cousin warned me that my circle would shrink each year, and I would have to learn to be okay with it. I shrugged it off, thinking, sure, that may be the case for a lot of people, but not for me.
News flash: I was wrong, and she was right.
The friendships I thought were unshakable have, over time, faded—some quietly, some with a sting. I used to see this as a personal failure, a sign that I wasn’t good enough, or maybe that I didn’t try hard enough to hold on. But now, I understand that not all friendships are meant to last forever. Some are just for a season and meant to shape us for a time before we part ways.
I’ve often struggled with female friendships, especially in my early 20s, to the point where I convinced myself they weren’t essential (I no longer believe this). The solitude can get veryyy comfortable.
Still, I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t hurt. Losing friendships is its own kind of heartbreak. Unlike romantic breakups, there is no blueprint for how to grieve them.
Yet, within the space where old friendships have faded, I’ve found something else: the joy of friendships that feel easy and safe. Women who celebrate each other without competition, who remind me that love is meant to be shared, who bring understanding and honesty, and the kind of support that doesn’t ask for anything in return.
So, maybe my cousin was right—my circle has shrunk. But what she didn’t mention is that sometimes, as the circle gets smaller, the love inside it grows fuller.
I am still learning how to approach and maintain adult friendships. It’s hard out here. But a part of me also believes, it doesn’t need to be. Friendship, at its core, is about choosing each other—again and again. Hanya Yanagihara beautifully expresses this in her book, A Little Life:
“Why wasn’t friendship as good as a relationship? Why wasn’t it even better? It was two people who remained together, day after day, bound not by sex or physical attraction or money or children or property, but only by the shared agreement to keep going, the mutual dedication to a union that could never be codified.”
This sentiment has stayed with me since I first came across it a few years ago. I think about the friends who have seen me flourish and have also seen me unravel; and still, they stay. Not because they have to, but because they want to.
The best friends, I’ve realized, are the ones who listen. Who notice the shift in your voice before you say that something is wrong. Who remember the small details—the book you mentioned in passing, the way your face lights up when you talk about a childhood memory.
But friendships don’t just happen; they need care. Even the ones that seem effortless in the beginning won’t grow without intention. This is the hardest part, because it can feel like work; and work requires energy—which we sometimes feel we don’t have enough of at every given moment.
And, friendship is never a one-way devotion. It thrives on mutual effort. There are seasons of giving and seasons of receiving, and the balance isn’t always perfect, but there is an unspoken trust that when one is carrying more, the other will step in.
Friendships, like any other meaningful relationship, are bound to encounter moments of hurt. We become rigid when we feel wronged. But, what if ‘why would they do this to me?’ became 'maybe there is something I don’t see?’ Because friendship requires grace. It asks us to believe in each other’s goodness without dismissing hurt.
I’ve been learning to hold my friendships more gently. I don’t want to grip them too tightly, nor do I want to let them slip away unnoticed. Love in friendship is ever-flowing—I water you, you water me. The best friendships are the ones where both feel nourished.
Small ways I’m nurturing my friendships lately
Voice notes over texts. Something about a voice note feels so intimate and unfiltered—like a handwritten letter (mistakes included).
Celebrate small wins. Cakes are not just for birthdays!
Remember their favorites. I love sending my friends a simple “saw this and thought of you” message or taking note of their go-to coffee order.
Mundane catch-ups. Friend dates don’t always need to be grand. Recently, my friend and I went on a run together and enjoyed breakfast at home after with homemade jalapeño sourdough bread 👀
Media consumed recently that I felt moved to share
why you should create like a kid again [YouTube]
Make Peace With Some of Your Addictions [article]
Spirited Away (2001) [film]
A Full Circle will always be free, but if you’d like to support further, I welcome you to buy me a coffee or add a book to my shelf <3
You sound to me like a very good friend. That your friends, however many they are, are very lucky to have you.
I often wonder, like Yanagihara, why it has been harder to find a best friend that an ideal spouse. Shouldn’t it be easier? We don’t have to live together or be sexually compatible or co-sign a mortgage. So why does deep, enduring platonic love seem so much harder to cultivate — at least for me — than non-platonic love?
Why do I consistently feel like the one willing to give more to a friendship than I get out of it? Surely, it must be something about me?
I loved this line enough to jot it down in my journal: “Friendship, at its core, is about choosing each other—again and again.”
beautifully written! I can tell how much of a good friend, and how much you cherish your friends, from this post ❤️