we don't need uber, we need villages

a love letter to friendship

Ever since I decentered men, I decided to center friendships.

I’m not talking about squeezing in more coffee dates or finally replying to the pile of WhatsApp voice notes I never have time to listen to. I’m talking about actually building a village. And that starts with redefining what friendship means.

For the longest time, I treated friendship as an afterthought. Something I had time for in less busy periods of my life. Something I get to nurture once everything else in my life is taken care of. Ever since I started traveling full-time, I’ve come to value the friendships I have a million times more — because I realized that our friends are truly the very thing that make our world go round. You can’t choose the family you’re born into, and relying on a single human being — aka your romantic partner — to bring you ultimate fulfillment was never real for anyone besides fucking Cinderella. So really, what we should be focusing on is finally leveling up our friendship game. We’ve spent years optimizing every part of ourselves to attract the perfect partner, like it’s some kind of Olympic sport — but no one ever taught us how to nurture deep, sustaining friendships.

As a society we’re currently stuck in what I like to call "let’s grab a coffee and catch up" culture. And I’m so fucking sick of it. Of course I wanna get coffee with my friends. But I also want to grocery shop together. Help each other unpack after a trip. Cook dinner side by side while our kids run around. I want to be so damn involved in their lives, that there’s no need to catch up. We keep saying we don’t have time for friendship, but that’s because we treat friendship like another task on our never ending to-do list, instead of weaving it into the everyday.

Most of the things that make us “too busy” — errands, chores, life admin — would not only be easier but also a lot more fun if we did them together.

I’ve never understood people who cancel on friends because they “have errands to run” or their home “isn’t clean enough.”
Like… respectfully, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK???

I believe part of why we treat friendship as an afterthought stems from our never-ending hustle to reach our ultimate potential as early as possible in life (definitely before our 30s so we can make it onto the Forbes 30 Under 30 list). Sure, I see how we could reach our goals faster if we weren’t rotting away on a friend’s couch, debriefing last night for five hours over cold fries. Or if we didn’t spend hours on a terrace in the sun talking about our first heartbreaks. Or spend our savings on a group trip to Ibiza instead of building an investment portfolio.

But isn’t that, like... the point of living?

We were sold the lie that if we’re just independent, rich, and famous enough, we’ll find ultimate happiness. But none of it means anything if we don’t have anyone to share it with.

The Alpha bros can yell into their microphones as loud as they want about how important it is not to “waste your time” with the wrong people — but I wonder how, in a world increasingly built on hyper-independence and hyper-convenience, hanging out with real people in real life could ever be seen as a waste of time. Quite the opposite: thinking we’re superior to everyone else, and that only the “best” people in the “best” networks deserve our attention, is making us straight-up sick. I’ve never felt fulfilled after meeting someone famous — but I do feel really fucking happy after joking with the barista about something silly and seemingly meaningless.

Yes, there are people out there who genuinely want to drain our energy. But here’s the thing: We can’t be robbed of something we’re giving away freely and generously.

Walking through life carefully because we’re too afraid of giving too much is the silliest thing we’ve ever been taught. How beautiful it is to be the person who gives too much. What an honor it is to be that person. I’d much rather be the one who got played because she gave too much than the one who walks through life thinking everyone is out to get her.

We act like friends are robbing us of the precious time we could spend building systems for financial independence — but what if independence was never the goal, and never will be? I don’t want to reach independence if the cost is isolation. I don’t want to rely on big companies to make my life easier, that’s literally what friends are for.

The thing is, everyone wants a village—but no one wants to be a villager. We all want the benefits of a community, but forget that it comes with a cost. And often, that cost is inconvenience. It’s showing up when we’re sleep deprived. It’s giving more than we get, and doing it anyway. It’s holding space for a friend who’s unraveling. Watching someone else’s kid so they can shower, scream, or just breathe for a second.

Often, it’s less glamorous than we imagine, but it’s the only way we build something real. We need to remember that villages don’t simply appear out of nowhere, they’re made. Intentionally. It’s up to us to decide, in this fucking moment, that we want to be the ones who go first. The ones who offer help without waiting to be asked. The ones who reach out, show up, and stay a little longer, even when it’s inconvenient. Real connection isn’t built in monthly scheduled catch-ups. It’s built in the most mundane moments that become special because we choose to be there.

So maybe the question isn’t “Where’s my village?”
Maybe it’s: “Who am I willing to be for someone else?”

Because that’s how it starts.
And that’s how it grows.

Connection isn’t convenient, but it’s the only thing that’s ever truly saved us.