“There are only so many seats on the train with you Lauren,” my friend says to me as I sip my drink across from him. “And either we’re intentional about who we give those seats to or… we’re not.” He takes a few swallows of his own beverage while I contemplate what’s just been said. He’s right. I know that. I can feel it in my bones. What he’s referring to is meaningful, close relationships. That inner circle of friends and/or family who are your tribe, your safe place, your people.

Or at least, they should be. But the fact is that when he tells me this, I know that there are definitely people on MY train who are less interested in what’s best for me and more interested in being where they want to be. It takes time, but eventually, I also realize that there are people standing on this metaphorical train station platform who I want to have on the train with me. I want them to know about what matters, to see them more regularly, to have them in my corner if they’re willing. But there isn’t any more space on the train… unless I make some. So I quietly pull back from a few relationships. I have a couple hard conversations where I’m up front about the shift. Not everybody is happy about it. But you know what’s even crazier? In the midst of making these changes, I realized something.