Friendship First: Celebrating Connection This Galentine's Day
Explore the joy of friendship, why it matters to your well-being, and how to nurture these bonds—especially in the isolating winter months.
Winter often brings a sense of stillness, but for many of us, it can also feel isolating. Long nights and cold days can leave us yearning for connection—those shared moments that remind us we’re not alone. This Galentine’s Day is the perfect opportunity to celebrate the friendships that light up our lives, especially during this quieter time of year.
Science tells us that friendships aren’t just nice to have; they’re essential. From boosting our mental health to supporting our longevity, these connections nurture us in ways we often overlook.
The Science of Friendship: The People That Hold Us Together
Friendship isn’t just good for the soul; it’s vital for our well-being. Research shows that meaningful relationships can reduce stress, strengthen resilience, and even improve physical health. Whether it’s a quick catch-up over coffee or a heartfelt phone call, these connections create a buffer against loneliness.
Positive psychology tells us that shared experiences strengthen our sense of belonging. Even simple rituals—like meeting a friend for a walk or laughing over a shared memory—build powerful emotional bonds.
Friendships also teach us the value of showing up for each other in small ways. Being present for someone, without trying to fix their problems, creates a space where both people feel seen and supported.
Practical Ways to Celebrate Friendship This Galentine’s Day
Friendship thrives on intention. Here are a few ideas to nurture your bonds this winter:
Host a Candlelight Dinner Tradition:
Invite a friend over for a simple meal by candlelight. Share stories, laugh, and enjoy the warmth of connection.
Create a Winter Walk Ritual:
Bundle up and explore your local park or neighbourhood together. The fresh air and movement can lift your spirits.
Swap Playlists or Books:
Share your favourite music or a novel that resonated with you. It’s a small gesture that sparks deeper conversations.
Start a Mini Friendship Project:
Whether it’s a joint craft, a collaborative journal, or planning a small adventure, working on something together strengthens bonds.
Gratitude in Action:
Write a short message to a friend sharing why you appreciate them. It doesn’t have to be long—just heartfelt.
How Friendship Changes Us
Friendships are life’s anchors, keeping us steady when we feel adrift. They remind us that life is a shared journey, full of laughter, support, and even the occasional tear.
This Galentine’s Day, celebrate your friendships in all their perfectly imperfect beauty. Honour the messy schedules, the missed calls, and the moments where you showed up for each other anyway.
And if you’re longing to deepen your connections, take the first step: reach out. Friendships don’t need grand gestures; they need small, consistent acts of care.
“Take a moment today to text or call one friend you’re grateful for. Let them know why they’re important to you. It’s a small gesture that can mean the world.”
Celebrate Friendship With Us
At If Lost, Start Here, we know how crucial connection is for emotional well-being.
Join us in celebrating the beauty of friendship. Sign up for our newsletter or explore our facilitated courses to find out more. Because life feels better when it’s shared.
When Friendship Saves Us (Part 2) : Our Take On Modern Love
As our problems gain significance and gravity and weight, we are no longer confident that our friends can bear their burden, no longer confident that they’ll be able to see us through the wreckage of our flaws. Maybe that’s why, when we find someone who does see us and loves us still…maybe that’s why we hold so tight?
Believe me when I tell you that nothing sounds more terrifying to me than a posh British girl who has just transitioned out of her successful career as a modern art curator to focus more fully on our societal responsibility to address mental well-being. (For reference: I am insane, and 50% of the “art” in my house is from TJ Maxx.)
But a few months after our second babies were born, it was time for our firstborn children to start Kindergarten, and by some stroke of luck, or destiny (or the fact that there was actually only one school in our town) our children ended up being placed in class together.
I sometimes wonder what these days would have been like if I’d understood at that time who she was…who’d she’d be to me. If I’d have felt less lost? Less alone? If we both would have? But maybe that’s the beauty of friendship? There is simply no rush to force its unfolding, no timetable that stipulates where things ought to be; a freedom that allowed us to bumble through the initial unfolding in spit-up ridden fits and starts, baby slings flapping unceremoniously in the breeze as we realized: being together through all of this was just better than being apart.
There was a time when I thought of friendship as an immature pursuit, that all of these minor relationships were simply buying time until the real relationships began. Surely I’d outgrow the need to spill forth all of the pieces of my life in the hopes that my poor, unsuspecting friends would put them back together. Surely slumber parties and impromptu ice cream binges would lose their appeal? Surely I’d feel increasingly more inclined to hide who I was in the hopes that I’d remain protected, collected, secure. And maybe that’s true. Maybe we do start holding ourselves together more as we age. We smile and respond “I’m great!”, and we shift our conversations to inconsequential topics and we occasionally pop in to therapy when things get bad…but by and large, more often than not, we choose to suffer alone. As our problems gain significance and gravity and weight, we are no longer confident that our friends can bear their burden, no longer confident that they’ll be able to see us through the wreckage of our flaws. Maybe that’s why, when we find someone who does see us (really sees us) and loves us still…maybe that’s why we hold so tight?
Claire was the first person I opened up to fully (partially because she made me feel safe, and partially because I was breaking down before her very eyes and there was no longer a polite way to brush off her concerns).
“Yes I babysat your daughter today!” (You’re welcome!)
Yes, I also stayed at the park the whole time because I thought a murderer was hidden in my attic.“Yes, we rode our bikes to school pick-up today!” (What a fun and active mom!)
Yes, I also believe a bomb has been planted in my car and will explode at any moment in some sort of Speed-esque fashion (but minus the uniformly-sweaty-and-bronzed Keanu Reeves.)“Yes, my eyes are very puffy because I’m tired!” (#momLife amirite?)
Yes my eyes are also puffy because I’ve been crying constantly/hysterically/desperately wondering how to escape the confines of my body.
Due, in part, to a series of traumatic events and in part to a less-than-ideal genetic composition, I’d found myself locked in the jaws of anxiety and paranoia, once again — a constant gnawing that quickly escalated to a violent, thrashing attack. And when everyone else saw the smiles and the bikes and the requisite puffy-eyes…Claire saw the bite marks. When everyone else was happy to accept the ‘I’m fine!’s, happy to accept the facade I’d so expertly constructed (and who could blame them?) Claire was the type of friend who was brave enough to look beyond the poorly-bandaged wounds to the disaster that lay beyond. And when she saw me there (the real and broken me) the ‘me’ who had no jokes or quips or excuse left; when anyone would have been justified in their rapid fleeing ... She stayed.