How Would You Define A Friend?


A friend is someone who accepts you for who you really are, the good and the bad parts. But a friend tries to help you make the bad parts better. A friend is honest with you about what is going on in your life, and you can tell a friend anything that is happening in your life and know that they will keep things confidential unless you tell them it’s okay to tell someone else. A friend sticks by you through the good times and the not-so-good times. A friend tells you the truth, even when you don’t want to hear it. But a friend tells you in a way that will help you become a better person and not as a criticism of you. A friend listens to you when you’re happy and is happy for you. A friend listens when something is wrong and doesn’t try to “fix” things, but really listens and shows empathy for you, but is honest if you’re off base.

You can’t make friends. Friendships happen. There is a connection between two people and they become friends. Friendships cannot be forced. They are meant to be or they are not. The connection is there or it isn’t. Friendship is special and lasts forever. You can have a friend you have not seen nor talked to in ages, and you can pick up right where you left off. Neither time nor distance diminishes friendship.

Three things I could do to be a better friend: I could be a better listener. I could not try to “fix” problems, but listen and empathize with my friend. I could go little things that let my friend know that I care about him or her. I could be absolutely certain to keep confidential whatever my friend tells me unless he or she tells me I can share information and with whom. However, if my friend is about to do something extremely foolish or harmful to himself or herself, I would tell him or her what I thought and if I had to tell another person about it, I would tell my friend first.

That’s my postaday2011 for today.

About mairedubhtx

I am a "youngish" grandmother of 15 year old twin granddaughter who has recently (is a year "recent"?) adopted Islam as my way of life, much to the consternation of my family. I love to read. I love to write. I am writing a book about my decision to revert, about my spiritual journey. I have another blog about stories from my youth, my parents, and grandparents. It's a blog so my OCD daughter will not be able to throw it out when I die. I suffer from depression and anxiety, for which I am treated, so my posts may be a bit dark at times. C'est la vie.
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