Isn’t it funny how some friendships sneak up on you? One minute, you’re content in your own little world, juggling work drama, yet another overwatered houseplant, and whatever TV characters you're overly invested in. And then, bam—someone crashes in, changes everything, and suddenly you're wondering how you ever got through life without them. For me, that person was Stella.

Let me tell you about Stella. She wasn’t the “easy friend.” You know, the one who texts you memes at midnight or always says yes to brunch. Stella was more like the friend equivalent of a Vegas headliner show—a dazzling presence that made an impact, whether you were ready for it or not. And, as with most things in my life, our story begins somewhere among the neon glow of my hometown.

A Friendship Built on Cheap Coffee and Big Dreams

I met Stella during my first real adult-ish job. We were both new hires working behind the scenes for a small-time show on the Strip—a juggling act that was equal parts hilarious chaos and catastrophic management. Everyone else we worked with seemed content to clock in, clock out, and grumble about their tipsy, demanding audience. But not Stella.

Stella had this energy about her—like the city skyline at dusk, bright and magnetic. She wore thrift-store leopard print jackets, always smelled faintly like a candle store, and laughed with total abandon (snorts included). She was that rare breed of person who could critique your life choices while simultaneously making you feel like the most interesting person in the room.

Every lunch break, we’d pull away from the glamour and grit of the Strip, seeking refuge at a nearby greasy-spoon diner. Over plates of suspiciously gray bacon and coffee that tasted vaguely of melted shoe rubber, Stella would dissect my carefully laid plans like she was cutting fabric for one of my mom’s show costumes. “So, you’re writing press releases about Elvis impersonators for the rest of your life?” she’d ask with one eyebrow arched so high it could’ve cleared the Bellagio fountains.

“Uh, no,” I’d stammer, stirring too much sugar into my cup. “I mean, I wanna write fiction. But, you know, it’s not practical.”

“Practical?” Stella rolled her eyes so hard I thought they might not come back. “If I wanted practical, I wouldn’t wear Crocs to work just to annoy people.”

Her point? Dreams were never practical. They were just dreams. You chased them or you didn’t. And she wasn’t going to let me sit back and let mine gather dust. It was annoying, really, the way she zeroed in on my excuses. But that’s the thing about transformative people: they don’t let you stay comfortable for long.

Why Stella Was Different (and Why We All Need a Stella)

Here’s the truth about most friendships: they’re made of convenience and shared experiences. You meet people in college or through work. You bond over Netflix's “Are you still watching?” screen and happy hour margaritas. That’s fine. Great, even. But Stella? Stella was a disruptor. She didn’t just show up for my bad days or laugh at my corny jokes (though she did). She actively nudged (okay, shoved) me toward being someone I didn’t think I could become.

One day, over a stack of pancakes drowning in syrup, Stella challenged me to quit my underwhelming gig and focus on writing. “The Strip is full of people who gave up after their first try,” she said matter-of-factly. “Don’t be one of them.”

We need friends like Stella because they see the potential we bury under layers of self-doubt or comfortable mediocrity. They shine a spotlight on all the parts of ourselves we’d rather keep backstage. It’s both uncomfortable and exhilarating, like karaoke on a first date—embarrassing in the moment but transformative in the long run.

Lessons from Stella to Level-Up Your Life (and Relationships)

While Stella’s impact on me was as loud and glittery as her wardrobe, her lessons were surprisingly simple. She applied these truths everywhere—in her friendships, her relationships, her art—and I’ve carried them with me ever since.

1. Lean Into the Discomfort

Whether it’s rejection, awkward conversations, or truly terrible diner coffee, progress is never served up in a comfy, easy-to-swallow package. Stella wasn’t afraid to sit in the discomfort of growth, and she taught me to do the same. Want to write? Write badly until you write something good. Want to love? Love messily until you figure it out. The same goes for friendships—sometimes, the friends who frustrate you the most are the ones who push you closer to where you’re meant to be.

2. Celebrate the Weird Stuff

Somewhere between her homemade friendship bracelets and wearing socks with flamingo prints, Stella reminded me to lean into what made me, well, me. People are drawn to authenticity—the good, the quirky, and even the slightly cringe. Whether it was her adamant belief that karaoke Thursdays should be a national holiday or her insistence that Crocs were a legitimate form of self-expression, Stella embraced her weird unapologetically. In turn, I learned to worry less about what other people expected and more about what set my soul on fire.

3. Be the Friend Who Shows Up—Really Shows Up

Stella had this magical ability to show up for people in all the ways that mattered. Not just for the big moments, but for the little ones, too. Did I once make her endure a disastrous poetry reading where I rhymed “love” with “dove” at least five times? Yes, I did. But she showed up, cheered louder than anyone, and even managed to subtly convince me to stop rhyming after the third stanza. This kind of consistency—the unglamorous, day-to-day showing up—is what separates good friends from unforgettable ones.

The Afterglow of a Stella Friendship

It’s been a few years since Stella and I last shared pancakes at that diner. Life is like that—people drift, priorities change, and sometimes you don’t realize how much someone shaped you until you’re looking back. But here’s the thing about a friend like Stella: their impact doesn’t fade when they’re not around. It sticks with you, showing up in the moments when you need it most.

I think about her every time I sit down to write—reminding myself that practicality is overrated, that it’s okay to be a little (or a lot) weird, and that progress is messy but worth it. And if you’re lucky enough to have a Stella in your life, hold onto them. Call them. Take them out for pancakes—or better coffee, if you can manage it.

Because in a world that’s constantly trying to dim our light, friends like Stella are the ones who make sure we shine just a little bit brighter.