When I asked my friend Mia to give me a lift to the airport at 6 a.m. one August morning, she replied, “Absolutely, I’d be happy to!” She even offered to assist with my house hunt, declaring it would be “fun.”
I had almost forgotten about the time my car was broken into by a troubled individual while parked in the city. When I reached out to friends, including both men and women (and my mom), for help with car-sitting during my trip from Boston to New York for my father’s medical treatments, I was met with refusals. Except for one. Lucy stepped up and said, “Of course!” Relieved, I promised to bring snacks and a book to make the task enjoyable, but she waved it off, saying, “I’ll just watch people go by; it’ll be fun.”
As we approach our 40s and beyond, I feel there’s a shift in what we seek in friendships. We begin to differentiate between those who merely entertain us and those we can rely on in times of need. My more flamboyant friends certainly keep me intrigued, and I cherish them for that. However, I’ve come to appreciate those who are willing to help me with practical matters, whether it’s driving me to the mechanic or simply being there when they say they will.
When I needed quotes for a graduate school project on a quirky topic like the New York Doll Hospital, five hours away, Lucy bravely confronted her shyness and approached customers for comments on her way home from work.
Though she’s often overlooked, Lucy possesses a spark that I’ve come to recognize after three decades of friendship. She’s a fantastic cook, an avid traveler, and a belly dancer who embraces new experiences. Yet, she doesn’t have the same kind of flashy presence that my college friend, “Laura,” had. Laura was captivating, and everyone who met her was drawn to her beauty and talent. However, after graduation, I found myself reaching out and maintaining our connection alone; once I stopped, so did she.
I wouldn’t trade my friendship with Lucy for a thousand mesmerizing Lauras. Lucy once agreed to join me for a concert, even though she wasn’t familiar with the artist’s music. I was anxious about the crowd and potential bats at the venue, but Lucy reassured me that if I felt uncomfortable, we could leave at any moment, no questions asked. If Laura was a breathtaking masterpiece, Lucy is a collection of warm, comforting hugs.
This isn’t to say that my more reliable friends lack excitement; they’re equally intelligent and entertaining. They shine in their own understated way. I know I can count on Lucy, Mia, and their circle of friends for anything. They provide the essential nutrients of friendship—trust, loyalty, and kindness—while the more dazzling friends add a bit of spice. A little spice is great, but you can’t live on it alone.
In my youth, I often gravitated toward friends who burned bright but faded quickly. I remember meeting “Sophie,” whose charm drew me in immediately. We were inseparable for a short while before she vanished from my life, leaving me wondering what went wrong. Now, when a new friendship arises, I remind myself of the saying: “What heats up quickly will cool just as fast.”
My taste in romantic partners has similarly evolved. In my younger days, I was enamored with brooding, artistic types. No offense to my loving husband, who is both kind and talented, but I often think I might have preferred the steady and reliable types who would prioritize fixing a sink over writing me a poem. If I could meet my 17-year-old self today, I’d advise her to steer clear of those tortured artists; their troubles can become exhausting. Nowadays, I’d much rather watch someone tackle a household problem than dwell on emotional woes.
In my earlier years, I surrounded myself with friends who dazzled but ultimately vanished. Now, my ideal friends would resemble the Boy Scout law: trustworthy, loyal, kind, and helpful (though I’m not too concerned with whether they’re thrifty, brave, obedient, or reverent). I don’t judge potential friendships with a transactional mindset. My friends are capable and talented, and they remain cherished in my life.
What I appreciate most is that my steady friends are genuinely there for me, unlike those who flit in and out of my life.
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Summary:
As we age, the qualities we seek in friends evolve from excitement to reliability. While flashy friendships can be fun, it’s the steady friends who provide genuine support through life’s challenges. These dependable companions offer comfort and consistency, making them invaluable in our lives.