IS IT ON YOU?

"Are you my friend?".

Do you remember asking—or being asked—that simple question as a child? Maybe it happened on a playground, in the middle of a game, when someone suddenly stopped and turned to you with: “Are you my friend?”.  You probably said “yeah” without hesitation.  And just like that, you kept playing—unbothered, trusting, certain that friendship was simply… friendship.

Today, it feels so different.

Now, we question the essence of our friendships - we overthink what it means to have a friend and sit in our head overthiking the 'rules'. Doing so can have us shy away from seeking their help, worried about adding to whatever woes they have. Or, we can believe that the second we ask for support—emotional or otherwise—we will be considered “too much” or ghosted (the worst!).  

And then there’s this word everyone throws around: normalize.
Normalize people being "too busy".
Normalize people “not having the capacity.”
Normalize people prioritizing others over you.
Normalize disappearing for months or years, then returning as if nothing changed.
Normalize behaviors we once clearly recognized as hurtful, disrespectful, or even abusive—but now excuse because blatant avoidance and poor assumptions are the new normal... Not to mention the sudden rise of unofficial self diagnosis of ADHD and the alike. Right?

Here's the thing: it is only FAKE FRIENDS who vanish the moment showing up requires effort and it is not every health condition that prevents somebody from being a friend, even on the most basic level.

Maybe I talk about this often because I’ve seen how deeply neglect and abandonment affect people. Or maybe it’s because I’ve always been that friend—the consistent one. The one who checks in, makes plans, shows up, gives generously, encourages, supports, and never demands anything in return… yet rarely receives anything without asking. Friendship isn’t about keeping score, but it is about mutual effort.

And imagine having to ask for effort:
Ask for a phone call.
Ask for a conversation.
Ask to spend time together.

It’s a horrible feeling.

In the 80s, 90s, and early 2000s, we called each other on purpose. We made time. We hung out—often. There were house parties, spontaneous meet-ups, long conversations. Back then, we didn’t question our friendships; even temporary ones were genuine, intentional, and warm.

Today’s disconnection—the superficial, fleeting, inconsistent friendships—are especially noticeable with men once they enter romantic relationships (particularly those relationships they entered because of pressure, not genuine desire). They pour themselves into their partner, which is understandable, but often forget the friends who were there long before—and the ones they’ll turn to again if the relationship ends. Why do some people drop long-term friendships so quickly—even after you’ve told them it hurts? Honestly, I’m not sure even God has the answer.

So I want you to pause and ask yourself:

• Am I a good friend?

• What actually makes me one?

• If I’m not, am I trying to do better?

• If not, why not?

• Do I truly love and care for my friends?

• How does the way I show up compare to how they show up for me?

• When was the last time I called, checked in, or spent time with them—and why?

• Do I only reach out when I need something, or when they contact me first?

• Are my priorities aligned with the kind of relationships I say I want?

• What do I want (not need) from the people in my life?

Be brutally honest with yourself. And once you’ve answered these questions, go check on the friends you’ve been ghosting. Tell them the truth about why you haven’t shown up. Stop assuming you’ll be a burden if you open up. They may not be able to fix your situation—but a listening ear, a conversation, or simply sitting together can lift a mood. It can even save a life. Literally. 

Yes, the world is changing. Times are hard, and many of us feel disconnected, overwhelmed, and uncertain about the future. But it doesn’t have to stay this way. We can choose to be the change now—the one we’d want today's children to inherit.

Check on the friend you haven’t spoken to in two weeks.
Make plans with the friend you haven’t seen in a month.
Do something thoughtful for the friend you only talk to online.
Call the friend whose voice you haven’t heard in months.

Money matters. Sex matters (to a point). Career, marriage, kids—sure, they matter.
But none of those things outweigh genuine human connection—connection rooted in consistency, trust, affection, respect, and shared memories. None.

When you’re gone, no one will talk about how you spent your money or your sexual experiences. They’ll talk about how you made them feel. The warmth of your presence. The last conversation you shared. The experience of being loved by you.

I’ve said it before, and it’s still true:
Be present.
Be available.
Be consistent.
Be a friend—now, while you still can.

Of course, we are all facing our own daily struggles. But, you are not a burden to anyone who truly cares for you or loves you. How will you know who those people are? Deep down, you already do.

Go where you feel safe.
Go where you are welcomed.
Go where you never have to wear a mask.
Go where you are encouraged and supported.
Go where honesty comes naturally—where you can share what you feel and what you’re going through without fear.

And stay where that level of care, consistency, and love doesn’t fade.

You are not alone. Even if the friend you turn to can’t change your situation, their presence matters. Being heard matters. Being understood matters. A listening ear, genuine empathy, a moment of shared clarity, or even a tight hug can make an enormous difference. You’ll feel lighter for opening up, and they’ll feel honored that you trusted them with your heart.

When we die, what matters isn’t what we owned or accomplished, but who we connected with deeply—and the memories we gifted each other.

We will all leave this world eventually. So much of what we chase doesn't matter much now and will matter even less, if at all, after we’re gone. But connection—real connection—will always matter. Nurturing our relationships will always matter.

Be where it makes sense to be.
Be there for each other.
Be for others the friend you want for yourself.

So, is it on you? Are you the one readily accepting friendship but not returning the same energy and efforts? Time for you to focus on doing better! Give people their flowers today—not at their funeral when they can't physically receive them!

Written by Charley Jai - @charleyjaiuk