A homage to my childhood friends who hold a special place in my heart.
Friendship is often described as a mosaic of the people who have passed through our lives, where we carry the speech patterns, daily routines, and personalities of others within ourselves. These connections form the quiet architecture of our identity; even when people move on, they leave roots in our lives that become indistinguishable from who we have become. We might find ourselves drinking warm tea when ill because a friend once recommended it, or thinking of someone specific when we see what we associate as their colour. There is profound comfort in knowing that the people who knew us at particular moments still live within us, just as we continue to carry pieces of them.Â
The quiet magic of childhood friendships is a sacred form of intimacy that can never be replicated. In those years, time was not measured in hours but in how long a moment could be stretched, whether that meant walking twenty minutes home together in the cold after school or promising, with full sincerity, to always reunite during the holidays. These early bonds were unpolished, often beginning over something as simple as trading Pokémon cards or sharing the one boba drink we could afford.
Childhood friends are the people who have known you through different phases, cities, and versions of yourself; sometimes, a single word is enough to conjure a shared memory. They are the ones who shaped you through shared understandings of the people you knew, gentle reminders that you deserve better, or seriousness when someone hurt you. These relationships are precious because they remind us of a version of ourselves who loved without caution and trusted without question.
At its most intimate, to be loved is to be known. While friendships differ, the most enduring ones often slip in quietly, like sunlight through blinds. In these relationships, you are not performed for or merely tolerated; you are fully seen, with all your mistakes, bad days, and silences, and still met with unconditional love. It is the act of choosing each other again and again across different versions of ourselves, like that friend who always hugs you before you leave making sure you are safe and loved.
However, the nature of friendship inevitably shifts as we age. We often assume friendships will move with us, but adulthood reveals that growth does not always happen at the same pace. Outgrowing a friendship is rarely dramatic; it is usually subtle, felt when you begin to feel tired after catching up instead of comforted, or when a friend expects you to respond like an old version of yourself that no longer exists. You might feel a sense of guilt, wondering if you are being dramatic for pulling back from a dynamic that fit when you were young but no longer works.Â
The real break in a friendship often occurs not because of growth itself, but because of a refusal to acknowledge that growth. Still, it becomes clear which friendships are strong and which are worth staying for.
The most resilient friendships are those where both people allow the other to change without taking it personally. These friends don’t panic when the dynamic evolves or a person changes; they adjust and listen. Sometimes, this means a friendship must change shape rather than end entirely. Love can become spacious, shifting from a daily confessional to a connection that roots for the other person from a distance. Ultimately, the friendships meant to stay will evolve with you, moving with the same sincerity they did when you were little, even if they do not move at the same pace.