When I was young, before cell phones, social media and paying bills, cultivating friendships seemed so easy.
Being a good friend meant calling regularly, visiting your friends after school or on the weekends or spending hours talking on the porch or the landline just because. You didn’t have to schedule closeness. It happened naturally.
These days, it’s not so simple. Friendships now compete with packed calendars, growing families, career burnout and planned events that never make it out of the group chat.
What makes someone a good friend in this stage of life, with jobs, bills, family and trying to stay sane? Is it consistency? Is it availability? Is it showing up when it counts, even if you weren’t around before things fell apart?
That’s the debate Issa Rae sparked when she admitted on our forever First Lady Michelle Obama and her brother Craig Robinson’s IMO (In My Opinion) Podcast.
“I think about you, but I might not text you to be like, ‘Hey I just want to make sure you’re okay,’” Issa admitted. “But you should know that I would hope you would call me if you weren’t okay and know that I would show up for you and be there for you.” She added, “I’m not a considerate friend in the way that I would like to be. It’s like one of my biggest flaws.”
That honesty hit me. Not because I disagreed, but because I understood what she was putting down.
I have low-maintenance tendencies. I don’t require constant communication to feel close to someone. I’m not offended by silence. I don’t expect birthday reminders or daily catch-ups. Life gets busy—I get it. But over time, I’ve understood that “low-maintenance” can’t be an excuse for low effort.
Issa’s confession rubbed many people the wrong way and I understand why. I’m happy she took the time to clarify things at the Met Gala during a press interview. She has these conversations all the time with her friends and they give her grace.
Many grew up thinking that strong friendships could survive distance, time and silence. And maybe they can. But they don’t thrive on neglect. At some point, the people you care about need to feel cared for without feeling like they need something for them to reach out to you. Space is crucial, but excessive distance can cause a connection to drift apart. Maintaining a friendship requires ongoing maintenance, not just relying on love or intentions and ensuring we pick up where we left off.
We live in a hyperconnected world. Our constant access to social media and updates from our community is diluting the quality of our interactions, leading to a decrease in meaningful connections.
Studies show that social media usage is causing increased disconnection, anxiety, depression and sleep deprivation, highlighting the need for a more balanced approach to social interaction.
Luckily, I have a solid circle of friends who understand “Life be Life-ing.” Just because those things take priority doesn’t mean I don’t come through when necessary. This is particularly important when all your good friends live in different states. We all have expectations, just like we do with our romantic relationships and we show up in different ways that we feel are important to us. If it doesn’t work, then that’s when conversations are had.
That’s the thing about adulthood, your friendships don’t automatically come with routines or rituals. No one forces you to check in. And if you’re not intentional, your people can slowly slip out of your life, even if the love is still there.
It’s easy to say, “They know I care.” But how? When’s the last time you showed it?
These days, I’m trying to do better. It is NOT easy. I don’t need to be in someone’s inbox daily, but I’ve learned to reach out when they cross my mind. I send voice notes, memes and funny videos. I remember what’s going on in their lives. I follow up. Small things, but they add up.
And that’s the nuance I think was missing from Issa’s comment—not just the admission, but how does she show that her friends matter to her? I don’t think Issa is a bad friend. I think she’s being honest about a flaw a lot of us share. But honesty isn’t the end of the work—it’s the beginning. If we can recognize where we fall short, we must be willing to show up differently.
Because being a good friend in 2025 doesn’t look like it did when we were younger. I’m sure it will look much different years from now.
