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Still from Four More Shots Please | Image used for representation only | Credit: Prime Video
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Still from Four More Shots Please | Image used for representation only | Credit: Prime Video
Did you catch up with lifelong childhood friends or raise a toast with work buddies this Friendships Day? We love our friends. We lean on them. Sometimes, we question some friendships silently. A friend’s name flashes on your screen, and your body tenses. You pause. You rehearse your tone. You respond with a heart emoji. But that micro-moment of hesitation is the wisdom of your nervous system whispering: This connection doesn’t feel safe anymore.
More than toxicity, you feel it’s just not soul-safe. The unwritten rules of friendship seem more binding. 'Dosti mein sab chalta hai.' Friendships are not supposed to feel uncomfortable. But, sometimes, they do.
Because shrinking feels easier than speaking. We were taught that discomfort is part of being “nice.” We’ve played a role in this friendship for so long, it feels like betrayal to adapt to a newer way of being friends.
Maybe we worry we’re being too sensitive, but healing makes us more sensitive, in a wise way. You stop tolerating the sharp edges that once felt normal. You notice the power dynamics you once laughed off. You feel the ache in your chest after a call that seemed “fine.”
A soul-safe friendship doesn’t demand perfection. It holds space for your evolution, your silence, and your truth, however messy. Let’s break it down through the Expression lens of three realms.
This realm tracks your inner landscape—how your systems respond around them. When soul-safety exists here:
This realm honours the soul's alignment—the deeper resonance. Soul-safety here feels like:
Sometimes, the danger isn't drama. It’s the slow erosion of who you are. Here are subtle but telling red flags:
Your body softens. Your nervous system exhales. You’re not editing yourself in real-time. In soul-safe spaces, you feel
Soul-safe friendships nurture your longing to live from wholeness. They honour who you’re becoming. You soften. You exhale.
Sometimes, letting go doesn’t mean rejection. It means releasing a connection that no longer feels right.
You’re not wrong for needing more safety. You’re not disloyal for wanting depth. You’re not “too much” for growing. Some friendships were warm once. But now, they tug at your spirit in all the wrong places. It’s okay to love someone and still choose distance. It’s okay to grieve what was good—while gently saying no to what no longer feels right.
You don’t need to ghost anyone. Or make a big, dramatic exit. You can simply start by asking yourself:
You don’t need a crisis to outgrow a connection. Let your body be the compass. Let your longing lead. Try this today: Take 10 quiet minutes today and journal on this: “What would my friendships look like if they were rooted in nourishment, not nostalgia?”
Allow yourself to crave more than closeness. Allow yourself to crave clarity, safety, and soul. Embrace what you actually need. A soul-safe friend who loves, honours and grows with you.
Authored by Saiyami Juvekar, a psychologist on a mission to empower people to heal, nurture and transform to awaken their free, true, joyful selves. | Views expressed by the author are their own.