The Art of casual friendship

and why can’t I master it?

Friendship feels so formal these days. I swear I treat most of my friends like professional relationships now. Everything has to be scheduled, planned, and confirmed twice. I’m constantly making sure I’m not saying anything “too much” or doing something weird that shifts the friendship dynamic, and honestly, I hate that. When did it all get so serious? I’m not talking politics here, but it feels like everyone’s so... liberal with their social rules that I have to act like neutral Switzerland just to keep the peace. It’s exhausting. What happened to the days when you could panic call your friend because you cried in a Hobby Lobby parking lot and she’d just show up with ice cream and a hoodie?

I miss when friendship was casual. Like show-up-at-their-house uninvited casual. I miss talking on the phone while in the bathroom because who cares, we all pee. Now I feel like I have to send a Google calendar invite just to FaceTime someone about something dumb. And sure, people will say “Well, it’s just different when you have kids,” but I don’t think that’s the whole truth. It’s really not that hard to throw the car seat in the back and go for a drive or chat while your toddler stacks blocks in the corner. We’re not asking for a four-hour dinner reservation. I just want to vent in your driveway for 15 minutes and then go home feeling lighter, and I want ya’ll to do the same.

Also, we need to be able to tell the truth and handle the truth without it turning into a crime scene. A real friend should be able to say “I don’t feel like doing that today” without having to invent a fake conflict about their grandma’s birthday dinner. And a real real friend will say “mood, enjoy your Bridgerton binge” and actually mean it. That’s the friendship I want. Not the weird little lies. Not the passive-aggressive energy. Not the “Sorry, just so swamped today” when we both know you’ve been horizontal for seven hours watching TikToks. Same. Just say that.

Somewhere along the way, we (ahem, calling myself out here) started treating friendship like it’s a job interview. Like there’s a set number of days you’re allowed to be out of touch before HR gets involved. And I know I do it too. I’ll think of someone, mean to reach out, then spiral about how it’s been too long, then feel awkward, then convince myself I ruined it, then just... don’t. So dumb. We all say we want connection, but no one wants to be the one who tries first.

And maybe that’s the real problem. Everyone’s scared of being too much. Too eager, too honest, too available. But I miss too much. I miss the kind of friendship where you can send six unhinged texts in a row without apologizing. I miss showing up at someone’s house in sweats and crying over something that wouldn’t make sense to anyone else. I miss not feeling like I had to “perform” friendship. Now it’s like if I don’t comment on your photo I owe you a 3-paragraph explanation and a starbucks gift card.

I just want easy again. I want the people who say “I’m outside” instead of “Are you free thursday at 5pm?” I want a milkshake dropped off on my porch because I said I had a rough morning. I want to stop being so polite all the time and start being honest. Friendship isn’t supposed to feel like an application process. It should feel like taking your bra off at the end of the day. 

If I’m being really honest with myself, I think this is a me problem. My type A self has gotten so in my head about how to be a good friend that I’ve turned it into a system with regulations instead of just chilling the hell out. But maybe I'm not the only one? And also I’m sorry to any of my friends that I’ve put into the professional colleague circle lol. But also can we please all stop talking like therapists and chatting about ‘trauma". Literally everyone has some sort of screw up in their life that’s affected the way they are now. Toughen up, get yourself over it, and move on with your life. Rant over.

So no, I haven’t mastered the art of casual friendship. But I’m working on it. I’m trying to stop overthinking every little interaction and just be... present. Less polished, more honest. Less perfect, more available. I’m trying to be the kind of friend I miss. And if that means showing up in fuzzy socks with fries and a venting face, even better.

Hiding under a rock now,
Kate