I had a major epiphany last week.

A surprising number of my friendships are operating at what I’m now calling a …  friend deficit.

A deficit, by definition, is when something falls short of what’s needed. That’s exactly what this feels like. I don’t think it’s intentional. Life has a way of pulling us in different directions. But friendships still need a little tending if they’re going to survive. (Can I get an amen up in here?)

As a friend, I don’t think I ask for much. The bar is low. Low-low.

Check in once in a while. Send me a ridiculous and/or offensive meme. Remember my birthday. Better yet, show up with a slice of rhubarb pie. (Food has always been my love language.)

In my world, friendship doesn’t require grand gestures. It just requires effort.

What I’ve slowly realized is that, in more than a few relationships, I’m the one doing all the heavy lifting. I’m making the calls, sending the texts, suggesting lunch, checking in, keeping the thread alive. And somewhere along the way, I started wondering why.

A few years ago, I wrote a blog called When a Friendship Fades. It was about the quiet ending of a friendship that had lasted more than 30 years. There wasn’t a fight. No betrayal. No dramatic exit. It simply … faded into the ether. 

At the time, I wrote:

“Thirty-year-old me would have obsessed over what I did wrong. Forty-year-old me would have tried to save it because of our history. Fifty-year-old me acknowledged the friendship, appreciated what it had been, and blessed and released it into the universe.”

Turns out, that wasn’t just about one friendship. It was about growing wiser.

Last week, I stumbled across a reel from Candas Barnes that put words to something I’d been feeling but hadn’t quite articulated. It wasn’t permission to stop caring. It was permission to stop carrying friendships by myself.

Turns out abscence is a virtue.

Now that doesn’t mean I’m giving up on people — it just means I’m matching energy.

If someone reaches out, I’ll happily meet them halfway. If they need me, I’m there. But I’m no longer chasing relationships that only survive because I’m the one constantly resuscitating them.

Oddly enough, that’s brought me a tremendous sense of peace.

It has also freed up something I didn’t realize I’d been spending so much of: emotional bandwidth.

Maybe this is what getting older is supposed to teach us. Not how to have fewer friends, but how to embrace those relationships where the effort goes both ways.

Those are the friendships worth holding onto.

The rest?

Sometimes it’s okay to simply bless ’em, release ’em … and enjoy the extra free time.

As always, thanks for coming to my TED Talk.