I’m sure you’ve heard the Jess C Scott saying, “Friends are the family you choose.” We’ve all heard it because if you have a good friend or two, you know the feeling. You put yourself out there for them, and they would do the same.
Friends Are The Family You Choose
Family isn’t always blood
Even though your ancestors DNA runs deep in your veins, real friend’s souls are connected to yours. It’s like they’re in your blood. When you put your friend as your “in case of emergency,” contact you know they’re a keeper.
Real friends want to help you
A true friend wants to pick you up in the middle of the night when your car breaks down. And not because they’re obligated. It’s just what friends do. That’s the friends are the family you choose meaning.
The best thing about friends is that you don’t have to be friends with them if you don’t want to be. You can stroll on down the path without them, but there’s not much fun when you go it alone.
But the choice is yours to have friends or not.
I choose friends
The good kind. Not the bad kind.
The best kinds of friends don’t pressure you to do things you don’t want to do.
One of my best friends was buying a new car. So we went to the dealer together. I wanted to make sure she made it there in her black sedan that had a leaky gas tank and a passenger door you had to open from the outside.
On that 32 mile drive, she gets out of her car at the toll booth. Smoke was rolling out from under the hood.
So I moved toward her car, and pushed it to the side of the road with my sleek “modern.” 2010 Honda CRV. At least my baby could push another little car 47 feet up the way into the grass.
I do have one thing to say. It was not a perfect situation
Even if things aren’t going great and you still show up— That is a sign of true friendship. You stick through the rough patches.
I was feeling hella stressed out
I had work deadlines that were due that day. In fact, in a few hours (this is one of those articles). And on the way to the dealer, I had also gotten a message about some major typos in one social media post and an article.
My anal Virgo tendencies made me feel like I could never write again. The work wasn’t up to someone else’s (nor my own) standards. I could feel the blood pulsing in my veins.
I was managing the overwhelming stress to the best of my abilities
So needless to say I was a bit checked out during the entire car buying celebration. I tried to give the occasional smile and head nod to her and the salesman. I did at least keep a panic attack at bay.
But I had my own writer armageddon stuff to deal with
I was busy on my phone trying to wrap my head around the social media post that I created. I quoted “Oparah,” instead of Oprah. I spelled the name of one of the most famous women in history wrong for God sake.
And I know how to say spell Oprah. That’s the frustrating part
How could I be happy for my friend while I had this Instagram-shattering typo that I currently did not have the power to change?
I needed that damn password (but I didn’t have it). So all of Instagram was there to witness the embarrassment of my client’s misspelling of Oprah. This extra “a” was detrimental to a simple 1080×1080 pixels turquoise quote box.
Oh, you can bet people messaged the business telling them the proper spelling of the women who would have a good chance of getting elected for President.
You might as well just kill me now. I hope you understand sarcasm while you read this because I’m a very satisfied and stable person 99.97 percent of the time.
But I digress. I felt like my career as a writer was crumbling faster than an improperly baked shortbread cookie. But there I was. With my friend because she is my friend. I thought she needed me. And she would have done the same thing.
Lots of Love,