Becoming Your Own Best Friend

What if one of the most beautiful outcomes of healing is discovering that you genuinely enjoy your own company?

I hear it often in my peer support conversations.

I don't have many friends.

I don't have family I can turn to.

I feel lonely.

And sometimes, I have heard, I don't particularly like being around people anymore.

Relationships change. Friendships fade. Families become complicated. And somewhere along the way, we may find ourselves spending more time alone than we expected.

But I've discovered something.

Being alone and being lonely aren't necessarily the same thing.

I certainly didn't start out feeling that way.

There was a time when I didn't particularly enjoy being alone with my thoughts.

Sometimes, I didn't even want to think.

Because thinking meant remembering. And remembering could bring up emotions I didn't feel equipped to manage.

But healing, much like physical rehabilitation, happens gradually.

Little by little.

I stopped being afraid of my own thoughts.

Then I started feeling comfortable with them.

Eventually, I began enjoying them.

And one day, I realized something I hadn't consciously been working toward.

I really liked myself.

Not because my life had become perfect or because I'd figured everything out.

But because I was genuinely proud of how far I'd come.

Mentally. Emotionally. Physically.

I began appreciating the person I was becoming.

And perhaps more importantly, the person I'd been.

The woman who struggled. Who stumbled. Who survived things she once wondered if she'd ever get through.

I didn't have to love every decision she'd made.

But I could finally look back at her with compassion rather than criticism.

I hadn't left my old self behind. I'd learned how to live peacefully with everything she carried.

And with that appreciation came something unexpected.

Companionship.

My own.

These days, I can walk my dog through the park, surrounded by trees, with nothing but my own thoughts for company.

And sometimes, I catch myself smiling.

Not because anything particularly exciting has happened.

But simply because I'm happy.

Happy in that moment.

Happy with the person walking along that path.

And, I no longer feel the same urgency to fill every quiet space with someone else.

There's something incredibly freeing about that!

Through my peer support work, I've heard similar feelings expressed by others navigating their own healing journeys.

One conversation in particular stayed with me.

Someone I was supporting shared that she sometimes felt lonely, despite recognizing how much she'd grown.

I asked her a few questions.

"Are you happy with who you're becoming?"

Yes.

"Are you proud of yourself?"

Again, yes.

"And when you're alone, do you enjoy your own company? Do you ever catch yourself smiling at your own thoughts?"

She smiled.

"Yes! Sometimes I wonder if it's strange that I have these little conversations with myself. But I actually enjoy them."

I smiled back.

"Have you considered that maybe you've become your own best friend?"

She paused.

And then she smiled even bigger.

It was such a simple exchange, but it stayed with me.

We spend so much of our lives learning how to build relationships with others.

How to listen, forgive, encourage and offer compassion.

But how often do we consider the relationship we're building with ourselves?

We criticize ourselves for mistakes we've made. Revisit conversations we wish had gone differently. Hold ourselves to expectations we'd never place on someone we love.

Yet something changes when our inner dialogue becomes kinder.

When we can acknowledge our mistakes without defining ourselves by them.

When we begin trusting ourselves, appreciating the quiet, and perhaps even laughing at our own thoughts.

That doesn't mean we stop needing people.

Human connection matters. Friendship matters. Love and belonging matter.

But there's a difference between welcoming people into our lives and needing someone else to make our lives feel complete.

And perhaps this becomes especially meaningful in midlife, when we begin questioning again what success and fulfillment really mean in our lives.

Maybe happiness isn't always measured by what we've accumulated or achieved.

Sometimes, it's something much quieter.

Being at peace with the person we've become.

And here's what I find particularly beautiful.

Becoming your own best friend doesn't have to be another self-improvement goal.

Another expectation.

Another thing you're supposed to accomplish.

Sometimes, becoming your own best friend is simply an unexpected outcome of healing.

You may not even notice it happening.

Until one day, you're walking through a park, smiling at your own thoughts, and you realize:

I'm actually really happy being here with me.

And what a beautiful feeling that is.

🌿 Before You Go...

The next time you find yourself alone, take a moment to notice how you feel in your own company.

Not to judge yourself.

Not to force yourself to feel happy.

Just to notice.

Are you becoming someone you enjoy spending time with?

Can you look at your past self with compassion for what they carried?

And if you're not quite there yet, that's okay.

Friendships take time to develop.

Including the one we build with ourselves.

You don't have to erase the person you used to be. After all, that person helped bring you here.

Perhaps, with time, you'll discover that the companionship you've been searching for has also been quietly growing within you.

And one day, you might realize that you've become your own best friend.

What a lovely person to have by your side.

— Shannon K. Shinn

Founder, Dignified Reinvention™

Creator of The REST Method™