People say you’re the sum of the five people you spend the most time with.
I’m not big on quantifying my relationships, but I do think your community shapes how you see and value yourself.
It’s the feeling you get after a great hangout with a friend — a little skip in your step, a new sparkle in the sky.
A small smile spreads across your face. You pause and realize how lucky you are to spend even a few hours with someone genuine.
A month ago, I sat across from my best friend Sarah at a local off-campus coffee shop. We met the first week of freshman year and have been close ever since.
She’s my constant — the person I turn to for the daily minutiae. Our conversations range from “Love Island UK” recaps to guessing who we just saw on campus to talking through major life decisions.
Over the past four years, we’ve built a weekly tradition of grabbing lunch or coffee to debrief our busy schedules. She’s a cognitive science major, and I’m on the management consulting track, so we rarely share classes.
We both get excited in the days leading up to our hangouts. I always joke that I won’t touch my phone for the hour we’re together.
Our friendship feels like a locked vault.
We trade stories, sharing funny anecdotes and laugh over the smallest details — even outfit choices. Sometimes, just making eye contact with Sarah is enough to make me smile.
I seek her opinion because I value her perspective. I want to know how she’d approach a challenge if she were in my shoes.
To me, that’s the mark of good company: someone who cheers you on while giving you space to shine. Someone you can be completely open with, without overthinking your next thought.
Now that I’m 22, I’ve come to appreciate both the friendships that have grown with me and the ones that have remained since the beginning.
When I was three, I sat in circle time next to a blonde girl with a short haircut. Eighteen years later, we shared a croissant beside the Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris.
She’s lived in Spain, Germany and Ireland, but I still think of her as the Kara who lived eight minutes from my house.
We commiserated over high school gym class and celebrated together as we opened our college acceptance letters.
We once shared a school parking lot. Now, we wait for holiday breaks to reunite in our hometown.
It’s a friendship that’s spanned nearly my entire life — one rooted in my past that continues to shape my future.
She calls me out when I’m too much of a people pleaser and not enough myself.
This past winter break, we fell back into one of our usual routines: a drive to a local Italian sandwich shop, a cappuccino from the drive-thru and honest conversations about the past semester.
I looked over at her in my passenger seat and admired the person she’s becoming — worldly, curious and deeply loyal.
Good company won’t always agree with you. It won’t offer easy approval just to keep the peace.
Kara has taught me that the people worth keeping are the ones who challenge you. Even when it’s easier to stay quiet, they’ll tell you what you need to hear.
This year, I’ve realized that a meaningful friendship can form when you least expect it.
In September, I sat down at my final opening meeting for The Brown and White next to someone whose name I’d heard before.
We exchanged pleasantries and quickly fell into conversation that felt like it belonged to old friends.
It was effortless.
Coming into senior year, I expected my friendships to stay the same. I didn’t think Olivia would become one of my closest friends in my final year at Lehigh.
Now, I can’t imagine my life without her.
The company you keep should push you to be better. It should inspire you to want more for yourself.
Each of these relationships is different, but all of them have shaped who I am.