Platonically Yours

The Feminine Urge to Create Sisterhood

I’ve always paid close attention to my friendships. Not in a weird or calculating way, but just... noticing. Noticing how I feel when I’m around certain people. Noticing if I feel energized or drained after we hang out. I think about what I’m learning from them, how I’m showing up in return, whether it feels mutual and nourishing. It’s something I’ve always done.

Taken stock.

Not just of what I’m getting from a friendship, but what I’m giving, too.

A couple years ago, I realized I was craving something different. I wanted more softness, more intention, more depth. I wanted friends who were in a similar place spiritually, people who were creative and introspective, people who cared about healing and growing. I looked around and saw how much of that was missing in the friendships I had at the time. Nothing was wrong exactly, but I just knew I wanted more.

So I started to put myself out there. I went on retreats. I tried new events. I signed up for workshops. I said yes to things that felt out of my comfort zone, hoping I might find my people. And to be honest, those experiences didn’t always lead to instant connection. I didn’t walk away from every event with a new friend. But something in me started to shift. I was opening up. I was saying to the universe, “I’m ready. I want this.”

Eventually, new friendships started to bloom. Slowly. Gently. Sometimes in the most unexpected places. And now, looking at my life, I can say with so much gratitude that I did find what I was looking for. I’m starting to experience the kind of friendship I dreamed of back then. Friendships that feel warm and real and aligned. It’s not a huge circle, but it’s a solid one. And that matters more to me than anything.

I’ve always imagined having a group of friends who could come over for a cozy dinner, a chill game night, or a random dance party with old records playing in the background. I wanted women I could talk with for hours about life and creativity and what we’re learning and how we’re trying to grow. And now, I’m finally in a season where that doesn’t feel like some far-off wish.

It’s here.

It’s real.

And I’m so grateful.

And yeah, it took time.

It took me being intentional. Speaking it out loud. Journaling about it. Putting myself in new spaces. Letting myself be seen, even when it felt vulnerable or awkward. There were moments where I doubted it would ever happen, but here I am living inside something I once hoped for.

Making friends hasn’t always been easy for me. I’m more introverted, and I’m almost positive I’m neurodivergent even though I’ve never gotten a formal diagnosis. Sometimes I can be shy or awkward or overthink things. But even with all that, I’ve always wanted deep connection. And even now, at 33, I still think about who I was at 5, 10, 15, 20, 25, 30. All the different versions of me who wanted to belong, who didn’t always know how to show up fully, who sometimes fumbled friendship. I have so much grace for her now. And I have so much hope for who I’m still becoming.

There was a time I believed I just wasn’t built for friendship. That maybe something was wrong with me. That I wasn’t fun enough, cool enough, extroverted enough. I thought I wasn’t worthy of the kind of intimate, platonic love I saw other people have. And honestly, those beliefs hung around for a long time. But little by little, they’ve started to melt away. Not because I forced them to, but because the love and care of the friends I have now have made it safe to believe something new. These are the friends who see me and choose me. Who meet me where I am and still make room for where I’m going.

Friendship, especially with other women, is healing. It’s life-giving. It reminds us that we don’t have to do everything alone. That we can be held. That we’re allowed to ask for more. That we’re allowed to want more.

So if you’re in a place where you’re craving deeper connections, I just want to say, I see you.

I’ve been there.

And it can happen for you, too.

It might take some time. It might look different than you expected. But it’s possible.

I promise it’s possible.

And when it comes, I hope it feels like love.

Like relief.

Like the most beautiful answer to a quiet prayer.

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Aliya Cheyanne
The Feminine Urge to Create