If you’d told me in college that a well-timed friendship would change my life, I probably would’ve laughed—brash, overconfident, and blissfully unaware of my own blind spots. I thought I had it all figured out (didn’t we all?), but the truth is, I didn’t realize what I was missing until I met Anna. She wasn’t just a friend; she was the kind of person who rerouted the emotional GPS you didn’t even know you were following.
Anna entered my life during one of those soul-stretching phases, fresh out of an exhausting breakup. I’d been dropped like leftover takeout—abruptly, unceremoniously, and with no microwave instructions for how to reheat my heart. I wasn’t looking for a new relationship, and certainly not a new friendship. But then she showed up, quietly folding herself into my life in the way good friends do, without fanfare or expectation.
The Day We Met: Or, The Universe Has a Sense of Humor
We met at a Saturday morning yoga class in a downtown Boise studio that reeked of eucalyptus and overly high expectations. I was there because I’d read somewhere that yoga might help me “find balance”—both emotionally and on one leg. Anna? She was there because she’d tagged along with a friend who promptly ghosted her for bagels.
She ended up next to me, and what started as a shared eye roll during a particularly pretentious monologue from the instructor (“Breathe into the spaces between your bones”) turned into post-class smoothies, then hours of conversation. Within a week, we were swapping Spotify playlists like middle schoolers and texting each other memes faster than you could say “Kombucha is overrated.”
She wasn’t the loud, larger-than-life person who commands attention in a room. Rather, she had this quiet gravity, as though every conversation you had with her temporarily recalibrated your world. Also, she could deadpan an absolutely filthy joke and make you laugh so hard you snorted up your drink—an underrated life skill, if you ask me.
Lessons Learned Over Lattes
For over a year, Anna became my go-to sounding board for everything, from tricky career decisions to lamenting why I still fell for men who treated “emotionally unavailable” as a personality trait. She didn’t hand out advice in the way you’d expect; she didn’t package little Hallmark mottos or tell me what to do. Instead, she asked thoughtful questions like, “Why do you think you’re so fixated on this outcome?” or “Does this make you feel more like yourself or less?”
Her mantra was unapologetic authenticity: no frills, no pretense. She stopped me in my tracks once during an especially melodramatic post-breakup rant and calmly asked, “Why are you chasing someone who wouldn’t cross the street for you?” It was blunt, sure, but it was like she’d flipped a switch. That question reframed the entire way I approached relationships.
If I’d been gathering relationships like mismatched socks, Anna taught me to start examining the pairs. Did they fit? Did they serve me? Were they full of holes? She taught me to be honest—brutally honest—with myself in ways that were uncomfortable but necessary.
The Art of Calling You Out (With Love)
Anna had this rare ability to hold up a mirror without shattering your confidence. Once, over our usual spot at a Boise coffee shop replete with mismatched mugs and cassette tapes lining the walls, I was mid-rant about why someone hadn’t texted me back. I was spiraling, you know—convincing myself that he hated me, had died, or both. Anna simply raised an eyebrow. “Or,” she said slowly, “he’s just not your guy, and that’s okay. Want another chai?”
And just like that, I stopped spiraling. Instead of focusing on what wasn’t working, Anna helped me focus on what I wanted, what I deserved, and what I found fulfilling. She didn’t frame it in some grand, self-help guru way; she just asked the small, simple questions that mattered: Are you happy? Are you being fair to yourself?
Building Your Support System: The Anna Checklist
Here’s what I’ve learned about finding—or being—a friend who changes lives. It’s surprisingly straightforward:
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Find the Person Who Says the Hard Thing. Anna wasn’t afraid to call BS on me when I needed it. Whether you're deciding if you should text your ex (again) or considering a haircut that’s clearly a cry for help, you need someone who tells you the truth with care.
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Prioritize the Little Moments. Sure, the coffee dates and deep talks matter, but some of the most impactful moments were when she texted me images of bad taxidermy animals captioned with “Monday Mood” just to make me laugh.
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Find Someone Who Makes You Feel Like Yourself—Not an Edited Version. Being around Anna never felt like I had to perform or filter myself. I could show up messy-haired, heartbroken, or ecstatic about the tiniest win, and she’d meet me in that moment with zero judgment.
An Impact That Sticks
Though Anna eventually moved to San Diego for a job that was so her (it’s something vaguely fabulous in sustainable fashion—of course it is), the lessons she taught me linger in the most unexpected ways.
I think of her when I hesitate to put my phone down and enjoy a conversation fully, or when I catch myself overthinking how to phrase an email (her advice: “Just send it. You’re not curing cancer, Leslie.”). I think of her when I strike up a conversation with a stranger—she never let her comfort zone dictate her life—and when I remind myself to set boundaries, even when it feels hard.
The Takeaway
The thing about the friends who change your life is that not every change is monumental or instantly visible. Sometimes, it’s slow, like the Boise River eroding its banks—not dramatic but lasting.
Anna didn’t swoop in and fix me, nor did she try. Instead, she stayed. She asked good questions. She showed me that my worth wasn’t up for debate and that it’s okay to expect more—from people, from life, from yourself. She reminded me that relationships, whether romantic or platonic, should add to your life, not drain you.
If you’re lucky enough to have a friend like Anna, hold onto them. And if you don’t, be your own Anna first and trust that the right people will find you. Sometimes, the best relationships in life aren’t the ones you chase—they’re the ones you never saw coming, sneaking in unannounced like a perfect yoga class sidekick with a killer sense of humor.