Recently, a friend of mine asked me what I was most proud of in life. I reflected on high school and college, on sports and academics, but couldn’t seem to identify a particular moment that truly embodied an outstanding or unwavering sense of pride. As my brain kept scanning through memories, it dawned on me that this moment I was searching for was quite possibly non-existent. When I thought about the things that I had accomplished in life, they seemed somewhat trivial. At the time they felt vastly important, but in retrospect archive themselves in my mind as a simple memory.

The interesting part about these moments though, their one similar thread, was that most of these achievements were experienced with the people I love. Every big step I made, I had people supporting me and sharing in my happiness. The victories were victories because of the people who won right along with me.

So immersed in the uncomfortable silence, I finally voiced my conclusion: that out of these 19 years on Earth, what I am proudest of in life is enduring relationships with friends who have become a second family.

Why is it then, that this seems to be such an underrated aspect of our lives?

As a teenager, I was overwhelmed with advice on the opposite sex. We are all trained on how to build a healthy relationship with potential suitors, constantly being told what to look for in a guy or how to treat a girl, how to tell if your partner has the right motives, and the importance of maintaining morals and values.

And while I agree that we all need to hear these lessons, why is it that we don’t seem to offer the same magnitude of advice for friendships? And furthermore, can we teach each other or future generations a way to establish some degree of the intimacy found in romantic relationships with our friends?

Coming home from college, many students are faced with an absence of friends from their hometown. And while of course, there is a natural isolation from those former friends who just aren’t compatible with us any longer, there usually seems to be another noteworthy population of friends- those who simply got away. Those who were put on the backburner for college, for boyfriends/girlfriends, and all that a new city has to offer. And while this is a completely understandable behavior, many of us are left with only memories of a friend whose life is marching on in an opposite direction.

I am guilty of this, of letting close friends get away simply because I didn’t put in the effort to keep a relationship. Or, perhaps even scarier, letting close friends become acquaintances because I didn’t actively invest in their lives. Friendships, whether local or long distance, take work. I would never go without talking to a boyfriend for months at a time, or exchange a forced “how are you” in place of a real conversation. So why do I do this with my friends?

I have to constantly remind myself that when we choose to spend the time and invest all we have, we gain friendships that uphold the very corners of our lives. Boyfriends and girlfriends might very well disappoint us. They have a funny way of doing that. But in my experience, genuine friendships never truly do.

So just like we do with our love interests, why not create a habit of “dating” our own friends? Of spending quality one-on-one time together, separate from a group. Of communicating with them on a regular basis, and truly hearing what they say. Of asking the hard questions, and engaging in their day to day lives.

How beautiful the results might be, if we set a standard of creating intimate, intentional, enduring friendships with the people who will one day watch us walk down the aisle, babysit our kids, and laugh with us (and at us) through every season of life.

And on a final note, for my own group of insanely talented, supportive, kind-hearted & wild-spirited friends- I hope you hold me to this standard. Because in truth, it is what each of you deserve. Thank you for making every bit of my life a bit better than it was yesterday, and thank you for choosing me to do the same for you.