Girls Who Feel Like Home

The Real love story they forgot to write books about

Let’s be honest: womanhood is just vibes, vibes, and spontaneous identity crises. One day you’re romanticizing your life while buying strawberries and listening to Phoebe Bridgers, and the next, you’re crying in the bathroom because someone said “you look tired” and now you’re questioning your entire existence.

But even on those days—especially on those days—there’s something that makes it all feel a little less like a dumpster fire. Something that feels like safety. Like home.

Female friendships.

And listen, I’m not saying male friendships don’t slap. They do. Some of my closest guy friends have been absolute angels in sneakers. But there’s something about female friendships… some things just hit different with your girls.

It’s in the group hug that’s 80% emotional support and 20% perfumed sweat.
It’s in the “babe, do you want me to punch him?” at 1 a.m. without even knowing the full story.
It’s in the deep sigh when someone just knows.

Why your Souls are safer with them

There’s a kind of safety that no locks, passwords, or double authentication can offer – the kind you find with the right women around you. Not to sound dramatic but being loved by other girls is one of the purest kinds of protection your soul can get.

Just an evening with them feels like an airbag against any problems of the world.

It’s knowing that when you text “I’m not okay,” someone is already ordering you an ice cream tub and a video call is coming even if they are knee deep in their broken code. Your soul feels safer with girls because girls don’t just offer solutions – they offer solidarity. They don’t just tell you to move on – they sit with you in the dark, scream at the universe, and laugh through the heartbreak.

Girlhood: The Softest Rebellion

There are so many ridiculous misconceptions about female friendships. That we’re catty. Competitive. Secretly waiting for each other’s downfall. That behind every compliment is a hidden insult.

Yes, there are different types of people in every community, and exceptions will always persist. But girlhood is so much more than just a friendship.

It’s a rebellion against the world, against the voices that tell you ‘You’re not enough.’ It’s a random stranger in the club bathroom fixing your eyeliner and telling you to block your ex. It’s that woman in office who listens to your rant over tea, and it’s your college roommates who send you ice cream when you’re living alone for the first time.

They are reminders that empathy, rage, love, loyalty, and healing can all sit at the same dinner table and toast to each other. (And probably plan a group vacation that’ll never happen.)

We need more books about female friendships (publishing industry, looking at you)

Okay. I adore a good enemies-to-lovers arc as much as the next emotionally unhinged reader. But can we please acknowledge the criminal lack of books that treat female friendships with the same swoony, plot-twisty, scream-into-a-pillow kind of devotion?

Where’s the emotional climax where two best friends have a messy fight and then ugly cry in a parking lot because losing each other hurts more than any boy?

Where’s the story of two girls growing up together, syncing heartbreaks like periods, choosing each other again and again even when life tries to pull them apart?

I want letters written across countries.
Shared playlists.
Matching tattoos.
I want a book where the central “love of her life” is the girl who held her hair back when she cried over her supposed love of her life.

Give me the girlhood epic. I’m ready.

There is a kind of grace that lives in female friendship – the kind that holds space for both silence and storms

Why this means so much to me

Honestly? I’m coming from a place of deep gratitude. Of late-night voice notes. Of emergency outfit checks over video call. Of breakdowns scheduled between work meetings and menstrual cramps—co-signed and validated by my girls.

I’m coming from years of friendships that didn’t always look perfect but always felt safe. Some of them faded out softly, like a song you didn’t realize was over. Some are still holding me up like scaffolding. Some I miss so much it hurts, even if we never had a dramatic fallout—just life doing its thing and pulling us in different directions.

But still, I cherish them all. Every single one. The friends I sobbed with at 3 a.m. over boy problems, the ones I studied with until we forgot our own names, the ones who let me be a disaster without judgement. I carry them with me—in the way I comfort others now, in the words I use, in the soft kind of strength they taught me.

I’m coming from a world that’s been feeling a little unkind lately. I don’t know if it’s the algorithm, the news cycle, or just being a woman in 2025. But there are days where I feel so tired, even if I can’t explain why. And in those moments, it’s not some grand philosophical advice that saves me—it’s a look from a friend. A “same here.” A “you’re not crazy, this is hard.”

That’s where I’m coming from. A quiet kind of knowing. A lifetime of tiny moments where female friendships reminded me that I am seen. And held. And never, ever alone.

to whoever gets it

If womanhood is a little chaotic, a little lonely, a little like showing up to a fight with nothing but lip balm and gut instinct—then female friendship is the secret weapon we never talk about enough.

I hope we start romanticising these bonds more. I hope we write them into novels, screenplays, and drunk Instagram captions. I hope we tell each other “thank you” more often, for all the things that go unspoken and all the ways we save each other daily.

Because at the end of it all, when the mascara’s smudged and the world’s a little too loud, there’s nothing quite like the quiet comfort of knowing: your girls have you. Always have, always will.

So here’s to them. (You all know who you are.)
And here’s to us.