For years, I searched for that one friend who would truly get me—the kind who could read between my silences, laugh at my oddly specific jokes, and hold my hand through life’s untidy chapters. I imagined late-night conversations, spontaneous adventures, and someone who would never let me feel alone in a crowded room.
But the more I looked outward, the more I noticed a curious absence—not in other people, but in myself. I had mastered the art of being there for everyone else, yet when it came to me, I was strangely absent. I ignored my own needs, silenced my doubts, and expected someone else to swoop in and fill the gaps I refused to acknowledge. It took a particularly quiet, uncomfortable winter for the truth to sink in: the friend I had been searching for all along was me.
I remember standing in front of the mirror one morning, bleary-eyed and disheveled, thinking, If I were my own friend, would I like me right now? The answer, though awkward, was “not particularly”—not because of my flaws, but because of how little care I had given myself. That realization was a turning point. Friendship, after all, is not only about shared laughter; it’s about compassion, patience, forgiveness, and the willingness to see the best in someone even when they can’t see it themselves. If I could extend that to others, why not to myself?
The journey didn’t happen overnight. At first, it felt a bit… odd. I started small: speaking to myself kindly instead of criticizing every tiny mistake, celebrating little victories—yes, even the finally drank enough water today ones, setting boundaries not because I was selfish but because I deserved peace too, and spending time alone without labeling it as loneliness. I began to notice that my shoulders sat a little lighter, my laughter came a little easier, and my inner critic was slowly replaced by an inner cheerleader.
Once I became my own friend, something remarkable happened: my relationships with others improved. I no longer expected people to complete me or rescue me from my bad days. I met them as a whole person, not a half searching for another half. And because I wasn’t clinging to the idea of “perfect friendship,” I could enjoy the imperfect, beautifully human friendships I had.
Self-friendship also made me braver. It gave me the confidence to say “no” when I meant it, “yes” when I wanted it, and “goodbye” when I needed it. It made me less afraid of being alone, because I knew I was in good company—my own.
Life has a way of changing the cast of characters around us—friends move, relationships fade, circumstances shift. But there’s one person who’s with you through every heartbreak, every celebration, every Tuesday afternoon when nothing in particular is happening: you. If we neglect that friendship, we risk living life as a stranger to ourselves. But when we nurture it, we create a steady anchor—a home we can always return to, no matter how stormy the seas get.
The friend I needed was not someone to magically appear with all the answers, nor someone to endlessly reassure me I was worthy. The friend I needed was me—the me who shows up, listens, forgives, and cheers me on. And here’s the thing: once you meet that friend in yourself, you’ll never truly be without one again.
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– Dr. Arwa Saifi
About the Writer
Dr. Arwa Saifi is an acclaimed Career Writer with over 18 years of experience in the literary and education space. Honoured with an Honorary Doctorate in Literature, she is also an Amazon #1 Bestselling Author. Her career includes contributions to Education Times, a supplement of The Times of India, where she brought her expertise to one of the country’s leading newspapers.
Dr. Saifi has served as the editor of several prestigious school and college magazines in Mumbai, shaping young voices and nurturing a culture of expression. She is the author of 10 published books and has collaborated as a co-author in more than 40 anthologies. Her work reflects a deep commitment to storytelling, education, and empowering aspiring writers.
