I thought having only a few close friends meant something was wrong with me — then I realized I’d spent years being everyone else’s emotional support
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Last week, I counted them. Four.
That’s how many people I’d consider close friends at this point in my life. Not acquaintances, not work contacts, not people I chat with at the gym. Real friends. The kind you’d call if your world fell apart at 2 AM.
For years, this number haunted me. I’d scroll through social media watching others navigate their vast networks of connections, their group dinners and weekend trips with what seemed like dozens of intimate companions. Somethi
That’s how many people I’d consider close friends at this point in my life. Not acquaintances, not work contacts, not people I chat with at the gym. Real friends. The kind you’d call if your world fell apart at 2 AM.
For years, this number haunted me. I’d scroll through social media watching others navigate their vast networks of connections, their group dinners and weekend trips with what seemed like dozens of intimate companions. Somethi
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