Just a few.

On Friendship.

Having companions has always been one of the most important things in my life. I’m now beginning to realize that these connections don’t just play an important role; they profoundly shape who we are. It’s not just about having friends, but about asking ourselves: Who truly is my confidant? True friends—they are just a few.

Many people in my life have disappointed me—people I admired and believed in. Maybe they regret what they did; maybe I believed more in their good intentions than they did. I might also be a disappointment to others. But this is life. Disappointment is part of it.

But confidants—this was different. When someone became my friend, I believed strongly, no, really strongly, that they would never harm me. I trusted that they would defend me when others spoke poorly of me, support me in my passions, writings, and studies, and be happy to see me with someone who makes me happy.

Anything less would be nonsense to me. Why would you be friends with someone you don’t like, someone you don’t wish the best for, someone you wouldn’t cry with in bad times or laugh with in good times?

Of course, we’re human; we all have negative feelings from time to time. It’s okay when a companion is upset, jealous, or envious. We can tolerate it if a friend is going through rough times and can’t be the person you want or need.

But a friend must always be a good friend. They shouldn’t harbor ill feelings toward you or wish you anything less than what you deserve. Nobody is closer to you than your friend. And when this person develops hostile feelings toward you—should we not call them an enemy?

A good friend should also be a good person. Thoughtful, reflective, able to look inside themselves and be aware of negative feelings. Envy toward a friend is an alarm bell, signaling that something isn’t right in your life.

When a friend harms a friend, the relationship is broken forever. But what about when confidants disappoint us? Is a true friend someone who is with you in good times or bad?

I believe in both.

When Oprah Winfrey says, “Lots of people want to ride with you in the limo, but what you want is someone who will take the bus with you when the limo breaks down,” she highlights that those who are only with you in good times aren’t really buddies. Her words suggest that some people only share joy when they have something to gain from it.

When you invite companions to a fancy dinner, of course, they celebrate your birthday with you. But what about when you tell them you just got promoted or have a new book deal—then you count on their pure joy for you. Do they give it to you?

I’ve lost many friends, and of course, many friends have lost me. Often it’s just because life takes us in different directions. But with those I stay in touch with, whenever I meet them, the feeling of being loved, welcomed, and accepted as the person I truly am—not my profession, not my status—is so real, it just feels good.

As I discovered the world outside my comfort zone, and also myself, when I desired more from life, many confidants turned their backs on me, dropped me, or were more than happy to undermine my courage. For a long time, I thought—no, I really believed—this must have something to do with me.

But disappointment after disappointment, I realized, no, it has something to do with them. It’s they who have limiting beliefs about themselves, and it didn’t matter at all if I tried to support them or tell them they could get more out of life—they stuck to their beliefs because it was easier for them.

Oh, and I’m not talking about people who have less than me—less money, or a different private life. I’m talking about friends who aren’t envious of what I have, but of who I am.

Life is about choices, and they chose an easier path—staying in their comfort zone instead of demanding more from life and working hard to achieve it. They refuse to fight against the odds, and prefer to numb their pain rather than confront and release it.

People who don’t recognize that pursuing your own dreams and goals costs a lot—a lot of time, effort, and tears—don’t share my beliefs. Those who see my openness in showing vulnerability as a sign of strength, not weakness, understand that I accept my pain and seek ways to release it - without harming anybody or myself.

So, I realized that while you can have nice conversations with someone who shares your hobbies, music taste, or fashion sense, a friend is someone who shares a whole world with you. Someone who not only backs up your values but reminds you of them when you stray. A friend is someone who has empathy and sympathy in equal measure, someone who knows you deep in their heart and does everything to help you remain true to yourself.

After living in different cities in different countries, traveling to foreign places, and returning again and again to the same places, I’ve met a lot of people. I cried with friends at “raki-tables” in Istanbul over past relationships, discussed politics after outrages in Turkey while drinking sour cocktails, talked about friendship over meze, gazed at sheep from train windows on the way from London to Edinburgh, listened to friends’ problems in a shabby hostel in Napoli, and drank espresso with friends in my London studio apartment, watching the London Eye. After meeting so many people, laughing, and crying with so many companions, I know, my friends—they are just a few. But for me, they don’t just shape my world—they are my world.