Chances are, if you’re a baseball player, you have something like a Mount Rushmore of players you truly admire, and at least attempt to model your game after. The same can probably be said if you’re a lawyer, though most of the people carved into your mountain, I’d imagine, are characters from John Grisham novels.

Likewise, I have a Mount Rushmore of therapists and psychological theorists who have profoundly shaped the way I think about treatment. No, Freud is not on it (though to be fair, he probably should be). But one name on it that most people, even if they took Psych 101, have probably never heard is Dr. Irvin Yalom.

He’s still alive, though I don’t believe he’s still in practice, or teaching at Stanford, at 94. He’s written several books, most notably, in my opinion, The Gift of Therapy. Yalom’s style is predominantly focused on presence, being connected in the therapy room and making each session a true human encounter: engaging and direct, while still warm and compassionate.

And he makes one of the most humbling observations that those of us with a more clinical, cognitive behavioral tilt can’t really deny: it’s the relationship that heals. Good therapy is a variety of things, some of which I’ve discussed here, but it should always serve as a template for what healthy relationships look like, empathetic and honest.

A central reason people come to therapy in the first place is relationship trouble, most commonly with a significant other. And while I’ve said before on this blog that the most influential relationship we have is the one with ourselves, our intimate relationships understandably get most of the attention. But I think friendships often go overlooked. Friendship is something that quietly holds a life together, or, when absent, quietly erodes it.

Friendship Is Not a Luxury, It’s a Necessity

Many adults treat friendship like a bonus feature, something we’ll “get back to” when the kids are older, when work slows down, when life becomes less demanding. Full disclosure, I’m one of those adults. I dearly love my friends, but I’m introverted, and unless I’m intentional about pursuing those relationships, the entirety of my free time will be spent with my family, my dogs, my computer, and my guitars.

But friendship doesn’t grow in the leftover margins of your calendar. It grows because you choose it. It grows because you show up.

And the reason this matters is not just emotional.

A ton of research links social connection, supportive relationships, and a sense of belonging with not just better mental health, but better physical health, and longer life. Conversely, loneliness and isolation are consistently associated with worse health outcomes over time. That isn’t inspirational language, that’s the body keeping score.

If you want to think about it in the most practical way possible: the quality of your relationships shapes the quality of your stress. And the quality of your stress shapes the quality of your health.

Why Friendship Protects Us

“Share a problem and cut it in half” is something I’ll say to clients occasionally when it seems evident there is something on their mind, but they are reluctant to say it out loud.

A good friend doesn’t remove your problems. A good friend helps you carry them.

Friendship reduces the sense of “I’m alone in this.” It interrupts rumination. It regulates the nervous system. It reminds you who you are when you’re temporarily forgetting. It provides perspective when your mind is narrowing. It makes hard seasons survivable, and good seasons richer.

This is one reason I think therapy can be so powerful when the relationship is strong. The client isn’t just getting ideas, they’re having a real relational experience. They’re learning what it feels like to be treated with dignity, to be listened to, to be taken seriously, while still being challenged with care when it becomes necessary. And over time, that experience becomes internalized. It becomes a new baseline for what relationships should feel like.

Friendship, at its best, offers something similar. It’s not identical, obviously. But it operates on a similar principle: human beings heal and grow in the context of safe connection.

Friendship as a Mirror of Security

One of the most revealing things about friendship is that it exposes your capacity for closeness.

Some people avoid friendship because they’re too busy. While, if you can’t tell from the content of this blog so far, that isn’t ideal, it’s also real. But, even less ideal, many people avoid friendship because closeness feels risky. They learned early, often painfully, that closeness can cost you, that it can be used against you, and that it leads to disappointment.

So they stay independent. Self-sufficient. “Fine.”

But “fine” is often a defense.

A good therapeutic relationship gently confronts that. It becomes a place where someone can practice trust, boundaries, honesty, and repair. And that practice is not meant to stay in the therapy room. It’s meant to translate outward.

Because at the end of the day, therapy can be life-changing, but it’s still an hour a week. The real work of life happens in the other 167 hours of your week, in your marriage, your parenting, your friendships, your community, your church, your work.

So if it’s true that “the relationship heals,” then friendship is not an accessory. It’s part of the architecture of a healthy life.

Not All Friendships Are the Same, and That’s the Point

You don’t need a hundred friends. You need a few real ones, and they often fall into a few categories.

You need people you can laugh with.
You need people who can tell you the truth without humiliating you.
You need people who can sit with you in suffering without trying to fix you.
You need people who can celebrate your wins without turning it into comparison.

I think a lot of young people struggle as they enter adulthood and experience the culling of their friend groups. There’s a certain premium many of us place on having the large “packs,” friend groups of 10, 12, 15 people. But as we get older and the demands of life begin to pick up, jobs, partners, kids, distance, responsibility, the pack naturally thins. And while that can feel like loss, it can also be an invitation into something deeper.

If you’ve read this blog before, you may have heard my disclaimer about my lack of biblical expertise, but also my foundation in its teachings. Within the Old Testament, my favorite book is by far Proverbs, which is rife with ancient, yet deep wisdom about friendship, and speaks to it with a kind of quiet realism. Proverbs 17:17 says, “A friend loves at all times,” and Proverbs 18:24 describes the kind of friend who “sticks closer than a brother.” In other words, a true friend isn’t merely defined by constant proximity but by emotional closeness and love.

My oldest friend lives 3,000 miles away, yet whenever we speak or see each other, it’s like no time has passed, and no rift has opened between us. Sometimes the truest friendships are the ones that survive seasons. You don’t have to rehearse the relationship. You don’t have to prove anything. There’s a steadiness to it, a brotherhood or sisterhood that doesn’t require daily contact to remain real.

From a Christian perspective, friendship isn’t a modern wellness trend, it’s part of what it means to be human. The New Testament assumes a communal life: bearing one another’s burdens, encouraging one another, exhorting one another, confessing, forgiving, repairing. Even Jesus’ relationship with his disciples is not framed as detached teaching alone, it’s presence, companionship, and love.

That matters because it reinforces something therapy also teaches: healing is not just an internal event. It is relational formation. You become a different kind of person through the experience of being known and loved, and through the practice of loving others well.

A Few Practices for Building Friendship as an Adult

Friendship is easier when you’re young because proximity does the work. As adults, it requires intention. Here are a few realistic practices that actually work:

Stop treating friendship as leftover.
If it matters, it gets a place on the calendar.
Go first.
Most adults are lonely and proud at the same time. Be the one who texts first. Invite first. Suggest the dinner first.
Make it repeatable.
Monthly dinner. Weekly walk. Quarterly hang. Repeat.
Choose depth over breadth.
A handful of real friends is worth more than an impressive social circle.
Let it be imperfect.
Schedules fall apart. Kids get sick. People cancel. Don’t let that kill momentum. Keep trying.

A Question Worth Sitting With

If it’s true that the relationship heals, then here’s the question:

What relationships in your life are actually healing you, and what relationships are you neglecting that could?

Be well.