"No Friendship Is An Accident."
Good ol' O. was right.
American short story writer William Sidney Porter—better known by his pen name, O. Henry—is said to have once declared: “No friendship is an accident.”
That’s an outstanding quote. I hadn’t heard it before today, but it hit me hard. I’m fifty. I’ve been alive long enough to know what that means. And yeah…it’s true.
Real friendships are never about luck. They’re about effort. Work. Choice.
When I use the word friendship, I don’t just mean casual hangouts and coffee catch-ups. I mean the kind of friendship that belongs in the same breath as family. Chosen family. And I prefer that term—chosen—over “found family.” Because chosen is a verb. It means you’re showing up on purpose. You’re investing. You’re doing the work.
Acquaintances are great—I’m not knocking that. There’s even such a thing as meaningful acquaintanceship. But the friendships that stick with you, the ones that last? They’re not passive. They’re built. They require showing up, sacrificing, staying present through the mess.
I’ve been lucky to have not just one or two of those kinds of friendships, but several. Some of those started way back—like eighth grade back. (Maybe seventh. The memory is a little fuzzy, but the moment is not.)
There’s one such friendship story I’m not quite ready to share publicly, but I can tell you this: one boy, one simple action—something he chose to do for me when I was thirteen, maybe fourteen—set the foundation for how I understood friendship from that day forward. I can still see it. I can still feel it. That’s how big it was.
I couldn’t have articulated it at the time. But in that moment, I knew: This is how you treat people you care about.
I’ve written about that moment in my MFA thesis and in other private places. It stayed with me. And there were others too—friends in high school who made similar choices. Not accidents. Choices. Actions that showed me, without words, what friendship really means.
Have I always lived up to those examples? Nope. I’ve screwed up more than once. Because that’s how relationships go—we mess up. We grow. We regret. Sometimes, we even have to walk away, because it’s safer for everyone. And even those endings aren’t accidental.
Friendship—real, solid, family-level friendship—isn’t a happy accident. It’s a mutual, ongoing decision.
And it takes effort.
It takes time.
Sometimes, it’s easier not to try. But if that person really matters to you, then you try. Again and again. You show up. Again and again.
I’ve been working on a new YA novel called Breaking Character. I’m in a chapter where we slow things down for a moment. The story’s been moving fast, and it’s time to take a breath and look back. The characters—Cassie, Jesse, and Lindsey—have been best friends since kindergarten. Now they’re fifteen, and for them, that’s a lifetime.
Their friendship started with music. Lindsey, a talented singer, was singing the Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood theme song on the playground. Cassie sat down and joined in. Jesse wandered over, started tapping a rhythm on the ground. And boom: a trio was born.
They performed “little shows.” They sang Cyndi Lauper in seventh grade. They had plans for R.E.M. in eighth grade. But things fell apart before that could happen. And in the novel, we’re finally catching up to that turning point.
Even at age five, those friendships weren’t accidents. They were choices. Just like the friendships I watch my second-grade daughter make right now. (At a recent school event, every few minutes, someone was calling out her name. Kids in every grade. Teachers. Staff. This kid hasn’t met someone she didn’t like. And she’s chosen to make those friendships real.)
Even in kindergarten, we’re choosing. Whether we’re bonding over Pokémon, YouTube videos, Disney, or drumming along on the playground—those connections are small choices that add up.
That’s a recurring theme in my writing. Especially in Breaking Character, which is built on the “friends to romance” trope. Technically, it’s more like enemies to friends to romance—but either way, the foundation is the same: connection through choice.
So yeah, I’ll end where I started:
“No friendship is an accident.”
—O. Henry (William Sidney Porter, 1862–1910)
Happy Wednesday. Don’t forget to say hi to your friends.
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P.S. If you enjoy reflections like this, or if you’re a fan of YA fiction, friendships that matter, and stories that linger—consider subscribing to the newsletter. I’ll share more updates on Breaking Character and other upcoming work soon.