Sisterhood Without Shade

I once told a friend that I’d landed an internship at a law firm I’d been silently praying about for weeks. I told her with half a smile and a cautious tone, because I’d grown used to friendship reactions being… let’s say… noncommittal enthusiasm at best, thinly veiled jealousy at worst. But this friend? She shrieked so loudly down the phone I nearly dropped it. And then she cried. Actual tears. As if she had been interceding for me. That’s when I knew, this is the kind of friendship I’ll write about one day.

So here we are.

In your twenties, there’s an unspoken pressure to treat life like one giant scoreboard. Who’s married first. Who earns more. Who “snaps back” after having a baby. Who books trips to Greece while the rest of us are still trying to sort out our overdrafts. And too often, female friendships get caught in the crossfire of comparison. The little snide jokes about your “expensive taste” when you just like quality. The sly “must be nice” when you get flowers delivered to your door. It’s subtle, but it stings.

So when you find a friend who doesn’t do any of that, who claps with both hands and a full chest, who reposts your wins like she owns shares in your success, you hold her tight.

These are the friends who don’t shrink when you shine. They don’t feel the need to one-up your news with a bigger story or a more aesthetically pleasing Instagram reel. They just see you. They get that your success isn’t their failure. That God's blessings aren't handed out in limited edition.

They’re the kind of women who’ll:

Show up to your launch, book signing, graduation, or “I just needed to cry” night, without needing a spotlight.

Laugh at your jokes even when they're more legal-in-jokes-meet-existential-crisis than actual comedy.

Read every blog post (hi darlings, love you) and actually text you about the part that made them weep, or cackle.

Never forget your coffee order, but also remind you why you don’t drink coffee (because we don’t, darling, we’re built different).

They’re rare, but they’re real.

I’ve got one who will message me paragraphs that feel like a devotional when I’m spiralling. Another who brings baked goods to my door because “something in her spirit told her I needed carbs.” And not one of them has ever made me feel like I’m “too much.” Too driven. Too curated. Too vulnerable. Too honest. Too… me.

That kind of friendship is divine. Not just emotionally intelligent, but spiritually rich. Grounded in a love that doesn’t ask, “What do I get out of this?” but instead says, “How can I serve you better as a friend?”

So if you’ve got women like that in your life, celebrate them. And if you don’t yet, wait for them. Don’t settle for women who only want to be your friend if you’re the messier one. Or the quieter one. Or the one with fewer things going for her. That’s not friendship. That’s proximity built on a power imbalance. And it will break your heart slowly.

You deserve friends who make space for your wins and your wounds. Who don’t weaponise your vulnerability. Who don’t view your calling as competition. Who can sit beside you in silence or shout for you in the front row. Who want the best for you, even when they’re still waiting on the best for themselves.

In a world that often teaches us that women should be each other’s rivals, there’s something rebelliously holy about women who choose to be each other’s safe place instead.

Here’s to the women who never make us feel like we need to dim our light to be loved.

Who clap loudly, love gracefully, and never, ever compete.