the ward method

Tag: relationships

  • How to maintain friendships as an adult.

    How to maintain friendships as an adult.

    This morning, I had coffee with one of my good girlfriends. We hadn’t seen each other in almost two months. Life, as always, got in the way. Work, schedules that never seem to line up. But sitting there, catching up over cappuccinos and just unpacking life, it reminded me just how grounding and healing good friendships are, and how important it is to water them, even when you feel like you’re running on 5 expressos and delusional happiness.

    I used to think friendships just happened. That if you were close with someone, it would always stay that way. But now that I’m older, I know that’s not true. Friendships, especially in adulthood, take effort, the kind that’s soft but intentional. So I’ve been thinking a lot about how to maintain the ones that matter, even when life feels chaotic.

    Here’s what I’ve learned:

    1. Stay connected regularly (in the realest way).

    Not every check-in needs to be a 3-hour FaceTime with wine and a therapy session. Sometimes it’s just sending a “this reminded me of you” meme, a voice note on the way to work, or a quick text that says, “Miss you. Let’s catch up soon.” It doesn’t have to be big to mean something.

    2. Send small, thoughtful gestures.

    The older I get, the more I love the random little things, like dropping off someone’s favorite treat or writing a positive text just because. It’s about showing you see them. That they’re on your mind. That they matter.

    3. Share your changes.

    We’re all growing and shifting. If you want your friends to understand where you’re at, you’ve got to let them in. Tell them what’s been heavy lately. What you’re excited about. What you’ve outgrown. Relationships lose their depth when we assume people just know who we are without updating them.

    4. Practice safe vulnerability.

    Not everyone deserves full access to you, but your real ones? Let them in. Let them hear the overthinking, the insecurity, the mess, the joy. Real intimacy starts when you drop the façade and get a little honest.

    5. Manage expectations.

    No one person can be everything to you, and that includes your friends. Some will be your hype girls, some your deep-convo girls, some your brunch-once-a-month girls. That’s okay. Let them show up in the way they can, and love them for it.

    Lately, I’ve realized that friendships are just as important as romantic relationships. Maybe even more, at times. They’re the people who witness you becoming yourself. Who sit with you in silence when you can’t find the words. Who send “I’m proud of you” texts after something big (or small).

    If you’re reading this and you’ve been “meaning to reach out” to someone, this is your sign. Call them. Send the text. Make the plan. Because life moves fast, but a good friend will always slow down for a coffee and a catch-up.

  • Don’t settle for a life you don’t want.

    Don’t settle for a life you don’t want.

    Let me be real for a second: I’ve compared myself to everyone.

    The friend who’s married.
    The influencer (I don’t even know) who just bought their dream house.
    The girl who travels full-time and somehow always looks like she belongs in a Pinterest board.
    Yes. I’ve scrolled. I’ve spiraled. I’ve questioned my path more times than I’d like to admit.

    But comparison? It’s not a vibe.

    And honestly, it’s exhausting trying to measure your life by someone else’s timeline.
    Been there. Not going back.

    I’ve realized I don’t want a life that just looks good. I want a life that feels good.
    One that’s mine. Not someone else’s recycled version of “success.”

    I don’t want to settle for a job that doesn’t fulfill me.
    I don’t want to force relationships that don’t feel right.
    I don’t want to shrink myself to make other people comfortable.

    And I definitely don’t want to chase milestones that don’t even align with what I want, just because everyone else seems to be doing them.

    Here’s the thing: no one else is living your life.

    They don’t wake up in your body. They don’t feel your passions. They don’t pay your bills. They don’t hear your dreams whispering to you when it’s quiet at night.

    So stop living for the audience.

    Start tuning into yourself. Your heart. Your truth.

    I’ve been guilty of losing focus. Of settling. Of trying to fit into versions of myself I outgrew a long time ago. But every experience, even the messy ones, made me stronger. Every time I questioned my path, I ended up creating a better one. One that actually feels like me.

    So if you’re in a season where things feel unclear, where you feel behind, where the comparison trap is louder than your own intuition, I get it. But here’s your sign to stop looking around and start looking in.

    You’re not too late. You’re not too much. You’re not falling behind.

    You’re just waking up to your own potential.

    And you deserve a life that lights you up, not one that chases validation from other people. Stop focusing on everyone else, and focus on you. Period.

  • This is why you spiral when they don’t text back.

    This is why you spiral when they don’t text back.

    Omg, once I learned about attachment styles, suddenly, things started to make sense.

    Avoidant attachment: “I don’t need anyone.”

    For a long time, I leaned heavily avoidant. I wore independence like a badge of honour. I prided myself on not needing anyone. I called it self-sufficiency, but deep down, it was fear.

    When you grow up believing that vulnerability leads to disappointment, you start to protect yourself from getting close at all. I avoided intimacy not because I didn’t want it, but because I didn’t trust it. There was a belief that people would eventually let me down, so I always pulled away. I’d convince myself I was better off alone. But it wasn’t true, I was just scared.

    I started to gently question that fear.
    What am I actually afraid will happen if I let someone in?
    Have I been hurt before? (Yes.)
    Can I survive it if it happens again? (Also yes.)

    Disappointment is part of being human. No one can meet all of our needs 100% of the time, and that’s not a failure. That’s reality. What matters is whether we feel safe enough to talk about it. To say, “Hey, I’m scared to get close. But I’m trying.”

    Anxious attachment: “Do they even like me?”

    At other points in my life, I swung to the opposite side. I became hyper-aware of how people showed up (or didn’t) in my life. If someone didn’t invite me to something or took too long to reply, it’d send me into a spiral: Are they mad at me? Did I do something wrong? Are they pulling away? Do they not like me?

    It was exhausting. For them and for me.

    But learning about anxious attachment helped me soften that voice in my head. Now, I pause and ask:
    “Is this about them, or is this about my fear of abandonment?”
    I remind myself that someone doing their own thing doesn’t mean they don’t love me. People have lives. That’s not rejection, it’s reality.

    And when those anxious feelings pop up, I don’t shame myself anymore. I listen. I get curious. I ask what I need to feel safe, and then I communicate it.

    Secure attachment: “We’re good, even if we’re not together 24/7.”

    This is the sweet spot. The balance. I’ve been working toward this for a while. Secure attachment doesn’t mean you never get triggered, it means you know how to navigate it. You know how to trust people without losing yourself. You know how to express your needs without shame.

    And most importantly? You understand that not everyone you’re in a relationship with will have the same attachment style as you, and that’s okay. The goal isn’t perfection. It’s awareness. Compassion. Communication.

    Healing your attachment style isn’t about fixing yourself, it’s about understanding yourself. And the more you do, the easier it becomes to show up in relationships with honesty, clarity, and softness. You don’t have to figure it all out overnight. Just start by asking questions. Stay curious. And remind yourself that you are worthy of love that feels safe and real.

    Because you are.

  • Let’s normalize being best friends with your partner.

    Let’s normalize being best friends with your partner.

    Let’s just normalize this already: your partner should be your best friend. Period.

    Not in a cheesy, “we wear matching pajamas” kind of way (though, honestly, love that for you). I’m talking about real friendship, the kind where you laugh at dumb sh*t together, feel safe being your weirdest self, and don’t need to perform to be loved. Where comfort is chemistry. Where being seen and accepted as you are is the whole point.

    And I’ll be honest… that’s not the kind of love I used to chase.

    For way too long, I found myself drawn to emotionally unavailable guys. The ones who were hot and mysterious and said things like “I’m just not ready for anything serious right now” right after trauma-dumping on our second date. You know the type. Charming enough to keep you hooked, distant enough to keep you confused. And for some reason? That felt exciting.

    When someone isn’t emotionally available, your brain can trick you into thinking that inconsistency = a challenge. And chasing that validation starts to feel like a reward. Like, if I can just get him to pick me, it means I’m enough.


    But real love?
    Real love doesn’t make you earn it.

    I’d stick around for the crumbs of affection, convinced that the little moments meant something deeper. That if I just held on, the dream version of him I created in my head would eventually show up in real life. But he never did, because I wasn’t in love with him. I was in love with the idea of him.

    And here’s where it got even messier: sometimes I think I chased emotionally unavailable people because I was scared of actual intimacy too. If they’re never fully in, I don’t have to be either. It’s a built-in escape plan. I can say I’m trying without risking too much. It’s safer, in a weird backwards way.

    But that safety? It’s also what keeps you stuck.

    Lately, I’ve been thinking about what love actually should feel like. And it looks a lot less like chasing and more like choosing. Choosing someone who chooses you back. Someone who texts first, who asks about your day, who knows your coffee order and what show you rewatch when you’re sad. The kind of person you want to do boring errands with and send unhinged TikTok’s to at 1AM.

    Someone who feels like home.
    Like your best friend.

    Because here’s the truth I’m finally learning: love isn’t supposed to feel like you’re auditioning. It’s supposed to feel safe, steady, fun, full of laughter, late-night convos, and forehead kisses. It’s supposed to feel like you. Messy, silly, fully human you. Where you can show up without needing to shrink or sparkle for someone else’s approval.

    So yes, I’m done romanticizing the slow-burn situationships and chasing guys who keep me guessing. I want the friend. The soft place to land. The person who stays when life gets hard and loves me in the most real way possible.

    Because when love is also friendship? That’s when it’s the good stuff.