I went to dinner a few weeks ago with some friends I’ve known for a long time. Twelve years to be exact. These days we rarely see each other, unless it’s showing up in each other’s social feeds. We try and get together three, maybe four times a year. The older we get, the busier we are, the harder it becomes.

Good friends are like stars, though. You don’t always see them, but you know they are still there.

Over dinner {and cocktails}, we laughed about old times. Talked about current times. And listened to each other regarding our trying times. We were raw, honest, and vulnerable in various aspects of our lives. I can be this way with them. They’re what I consider close friends.

But they aren’t my best friends.

It got me asking myself, ‘who is your best friend?’. If I had to pick, it would be my friend J from Highschool. But in reality, I don’t know. I don’t use language like that anymore. It doesn’t fit.

The older I get. The more seasons of life I come to know. The more personalities I gain. I realize I don’t need a best friend. I need the right friend who holds the key to the different doors I walk through each day. 

Now don’t get me wrong. I love my tried and true friends. They have seen me at my best and picked me up at my worst. But in this season of my life, I am walking through doors none of them will understand.

Sure, it’s great to have best friends. It’s amazing I still talk to the girls I’ve known since I was 10, 15, and 21. But with age, comes wisdom. And something I’m growing into is that some days I don’t need a best friend. Some days I need the right friend.

The kind of friend who… 

Holds the key that opens my heart.
Or the door to my laughter. My mischief. My sin.
Someone who holds the key to my rawest confusion and vulnerability as a mom.
The girl who holds the key to my entrepreneurial urgency.
The friend who has the many keys to my history.

The kind of friend, who may not be ‘the closest’ to me, but holds the most important key for me in the moment of my life I need them the most.

My nearest and dearest, the ladies {and gents} who have seen me at my best and picked me up at my worst. Who are as close to me as my own skin. They may not have what I need today. And that is okay.

Our friends don’t have to hold every key. How could they? It isn’t a failure on our part that we don’t have a best friend who opens every single door to who we are. The thousands of rooms of our identities cannot overlap perfectly with anyone.

But I can say, the closest friends. They have a key ring on their hip with lots of keys, jingling.