The Opposite of Control: True Friendship

I’ve often joked that my friends seem to live by one simple rule: do the exact opposite of what I suggest. If I tell them to take the safe route home, they’ll find a detour. If I advise them not to text that ex at 2 a.m., they’ll do it before I finish my sentence. Over time, though, I’ve realized this isn’t actually a sign of them ignoring me or not valuing my opinion, it’s just part of being human and wanting to make your own choices. And honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I’ve stayed close with my friends for so many years because I choose to support them even when I disagree with their decisions. That doesn’t mean I always understand or approve, but it means I’m willing to stand by them regardless. I let them be their full, messy, complicated selves, and when they fall apart after that 2 a.m. text or end up lost on that risky detour, I’m there to pick them up. I’ve learned that true friendship isn’t about controlling or fixing someone’s path, it’s about walking beside them, even when they insist on taking the long way.

What hasn’t worked in my past friendships is trying to control people. Feeling like I had to protect someone from every bad choice or worrying that if I disagreed, they would be upset, always led to tension. There’s a kind of pressure that builds when you believe your friend’s happiness depends on your constant guidance, and eventually, that tension breaks. I’ve been on both sides: the person trying to control and the person feeling suffocated. Both roles are exhausting and lonely.

I also refuse to “gatekeep” my friends, meaning I don’t believe in telling people who they can or can’t hang out with. I’ve seen friendships fall apart because someone felt betrayed when their friend found a new circle. But I’ve realized that part of being a good friend is encouraging each other to explore new connections and grow. You can have deep bonds with people and still leave them space to make other meaningful relationships. In fact, I think that kind of openness makes a friendship stronger.

At the end of the day, my friends might do the opposite of what I say, but I don’t love them any less for it. If anything, I respect them more for their willingness to follow their own instincts, even if it means making mistakes. They trust that I’ll still be there, ready to celebrate when things go well and ready to offer a shoulder when they don’t.

This is the kind of friend I want to be: someone who doesn’t need to control the outcome to prove their love. Someone who believes in allowing others to live fully, messily, and freely. Because the most valuable friendships, the ones that last, aren’t about forcing someone to do what you think is right—they’re about choosing each other, again and again, no matter what.