You’ll Know the Friend Who Changed Your Life When They Do This

Some friends slip into your life quietly, like a polite houseguest. Others? They barge in like it’s their own home, rearranging the furniture and pointing out that your taste in pillows is abysmal. My friend Jess falls squarely in the latter category. She blew into my life during my freshman year at Vanderbilt, a force of nature disguised in red lipstick and cowboy boots. Despite her nickname on campus, “Hurricane Jess,” it took a long time before I fully grasped the storm she’d become in my world and the ways she’d quietly reorder my walk through life, love, and everything in between.

One of the lessons Jess handed me—often uninvited but always warranted—was a masterclass in taking risks. And as someone who grew up in a fairly predictable East Nashville bubble (lots of coffee houses, lots of secondhand bookstores, no skydiving), I needed someone to toss a grenade into my comfort zone. Jess held both the lighter and the match.

Here’s what that looks like—and how you might recognize the "Jess" in your life.

She Didn't Change My Life—She Challenged It

Our first meeting was classic comedy-of-errors material. I was late to a writing workshop, fumbling with my coffee, and muttering apologies. Jess was already in the room, perched cross-legged on a table, telling the instructor exactly how her syllabus missed the mark. I remember thinking, “Who does that?” I also remember thinking, “I have to be friends with her.”

It didn’t take long for Jess to start doing what she does best: meddling (affectionately) in other people’s realities. One Friday night, she took one look at my carefully curated outfit for a party—a soft pink cardigan and ballet flats—and said, “Darling, I mean this lovingly, but you look like the before photo in a makeover montage.” Then she dragged me to her room, threw some leather boots at me, and proclaimed, “Let’s make you the leading lady.”

Jess wasn’t just about the aesthetic transformations, though she did unlock my long-standing fear of big earrings. Her real impact was teaching me how to take bigger leaps—on stage, at work, and in my relationships.

When I hesitated to pitch my first big byline to a local magazine, Jess said, “What’s the worst that could happen? They say no? Big deal. Rejection’s just life going, ‘Try again, babe.’” That byline eventually became my first published essay, and I still hear her voice whenever I consider not trying. Sure, I’ve failed plenty in the years since, but I’ve also won big—both personally and professionally—because I learned to get comfortable with a little risk.

If you have a “Jess” in your life, chances are you already know it. They’re the friend who calls you out (with love!) and nudges you toward the version of yourself you’re too scared to embrace just yet.

The Fine Art of Being Lovingly Brutal

Jess was my introduction to the concept of loving honesty—a phrase that sounds all sunshine and rainbows until you’re on the receiving end. It’s not the burn-you-to-a-crisp criticism thinly veiled as “I’m just being real.” It’s also not blind reassurance. It’s more like someone holding up a mirror, gently turning your head, and saying, “See that smudge of doubt right there? Let’s fix it.”

For example, at one point during college, I was stuck in a cycle of short-lived, half-hearted relationships. Jess took me out for tacos, let me vent, and then leveled her green-eyed gaze at me. “Savannah,” she sighed, “you’re dating like you’re window shopping. Actually go inside the store, try something on. Commit to figuring out what works for you, even if it doesn’t fit perfectly at first.”

That line stayed with me. It shifted how I prioritized romantic relationships—and how I started dealing with life, too. Jess’s advice was rarely prescriptive; it was reflective. It invited me to figure out my truth without her handing me a prepackaged solution. Sometimes, the best-life friends push you, not because they want to change you but because they see just how much more you could be.

It Was the Everyday Lessons That Stuck

While some friends are the big-event cheerleaders (showing up for your wedding, your baby shower, your TED Talk debut), Jess thrived in the downtime. The real magic was in our grocery-store runs, couch karaoke sessions, and chaotic attempts to cook lasagna. Those were the moments that taught me how to value consistency in relationships.

When I called her at 2 AM to cry over a guy who ghosted me, she picked up—not with a drawn-out, philosophical discussion on modern dating, but with an invitation: “Come over. I’ll make French toast. No powdered sugar, though; we’re out.” And because we were both broke students, “French toast” inevitably meant sandwich bread and an egg from her mini fridge. But what mattered was that she was there, no questions asked, even when it wasn’t convenient.

What Jess taught me is that the friends who change your life don’t just stand out during the big, dramatic crescendos. They show up in the quiet, awkward bridges—the parts where life slows down and doesn’t feel Insta-worthy. Everyone needs a breakfast-at-midnight friend like that.

How Do You Know Who Your Life-Changing Friend Is?

Spoiler alert: They’re rarely the flashiest person in your circle. They won’t always be the best-dressed, the loudest at karaoke, or the first to RSVP “yes” to Vegas. But they will:

  • Challenge the beliefs you’ve never questioned about yourself. (“Why don’t you think you deserve better?”)
  • Offer you vulnerability as a foundation. (“Here’s how I messed up in a similar situation.”)
  • Show up when it matters and even when it doesn’t.
  • Hold you accountable to living a life that’s true to you, even when it’s uncomfortable.

Jess didn’t turn me into someone new—thankfully! Instead, she helped me crack open my own potential. She knew how to draw a line between playful teasing and constructive nudging (although, full disclosure, when I showed her my first attempt at wearing winged eyeliner, that line got a little blurry).

You don’t always know, in the moment, the long-term effects someone will have on your life. Jess probably has no idea how much of her advice I carry with me to this day. I wonder if her French toast delivery even made sense to her—or if it was just a random reaction from a friend trying to make me feel less alone.

Spoiler: It worked.

The Lasting Legacy

I think about Jess whenever I face a new challenge or meet someone who reminds me a little of my younger self—a little scared, a little too safe, but brimming with untapped something. I try to pay forward the lessons she taught me by asking people the same kinds of hard, loving questions she asked me: “What would you do if failure weren’t such a big, scary monster? What’s stopping you from being bolder than before?”

Friendships like these aren’t always easy—they involve growing pains and honesty, and sometimes they’ll make you want to hiss. But the people who challenge you with love? They’re worth holding onto.

So here’s your homework. Text that brutally kind, always-there friend of yours, the one who makes you feel more alive. Tell them thank you. Even better, tell them about the last leap you made because they showed you it was safe to jump. Because odds are, they don’t know they’re that person to you. Jess certainly doesn’t. But she should.

Catch me making her a batch of midnight French toast next time she’s in town.