Being Fully Known: Getting to the Heart of Real Friendship

A few weeks ago, I jokingly told a group of my friends that I was going through a “friend cleanse.” Naturally, that didn’t go over quietly. They started laughing, giving me the side eye, joking about how they better not get dropped “like it’s hot.” One even asked if they should be nervous.

Okay… fair question... “Friend cleanse” sounds a little aggressive and dramatic.

But the more I’ve thought about it, the more I’ve realized it was about noticing the people who love me really well, and asking myself if I’m loving them back the way they deserve.

For some reason, lately, I’ve been especially aware of the people in my life who truly know me. The ones who see beyond the surface, take the time to really ask and listen, and show up in quiet but meaningful ways.

This past year has made that even clearer.

I've had people in my corner who, even though I only see them a few times a year, showed up in a big way while I was preparing for a national presentation. They listened to me practice time and time again, let me process out loud, cheered me on, and somehow still acted like they were hearing it for the first time.

The women who have sat around my kitchen table and made it feel safe to be completely real. Not polished or put together, or pretending I have everything figured out. Just honest, vulnerable, and fully myself. They are the kind of women who make space for the hard things and celebrate both the big moments and the smallest moments.

Friendship often grows one honest conversation at a time.

Even farmers I work with, who somewhere along the way became more than just part of my job, have turned into some of the most unexpected and meaningful friendships. Seeing them every month has created space for something deeper than routine monthly test days or simple farm talk. I have gotten to know the whole farm family, watched kids grow up, seen new houses built, and watched farms expand. We have talked through the hard parts of farming, celebrated the good, and shared real life along the way. I have had the gift of receiving them in those moments, but what has meant just as much is how well they have received me, too. It has reminded me that friendship often grows one honest conversation at a time, even if sometimes that happens in chore boots, standing in the milking parlor, or sitting in a barn office.

I’ve always known a lot of people. Through work, church, community, Ag organizations, and all the places life takes me, I’ve crossed paths with many good people. And I’m so grateful for that. But here is the thing: there is a difference between being known and being fully known.

Being known is someone recognizing your name. Being fully known is someone asking the second question.

Being known is being part of the group. Being fully known is someone noticing when something is off.

Being known is easy. Being fully known is a gift.

Those relationships don’t just happen over time; they take time, trust, and someone willing to go first with vulnerability.

Being known is easy. Being fully known is a gift.

Recently, I had a conversation with a friend. She shared something personal, and you could tell it wasn’t easy. Before she shared, there was a pause and a little hesitation, almost like she was quietly asking, “Is this a safe place?”

I keep thinking about this conversation and her hesitation because I don’t ever want someone to have to wonder if sharing is a safe place with me.

I want to be the kind of friend who makes it easier to be honest. The kind of person who doesn’t rush past the hard things or try to fix everything in two sentences. The kind of person who can sit in it with someone, even when it’s uncomfortable.

Even in good friendships and people we trust, there’s always that moment in conversations where you decide if you’re going to stay on the surface or say what’s really going on. The moment where you wonder if you’re saying too much or the moment where you hope it doesn’t change how someone sees you.

Truthfully, I think a lot of us have gotten a little out of practice with real vulnerability. However, I think that says something about us. We are all looking for a safe place to land.

The friendships that have meant the most to me this year are the ones where honesty feels a little easier. Not because everything is perfect, but because trust has been built slowly over time. Safe to show up as you are, safe to say the thing you weren’t sure you were going to say out loud, and safe to not have everything figured out.

Which leads me to my whole point.

Am I creating that same kind of space for the people in my life? Or am I quick to move on and quick to respond without really sitting and receiving them?

Because being fully known isn’t just something we receive. It’s something we help create.

I think a lot of us have gotten used to keeping things surface level and filling the space with noise, small talk, or even talking about other people instead of saying what’s actually on our hearts.

But I don’t think that’s what we really want. I think we want to be known. I think we want to be received. I think we want to sit across from someone and know we don’t have to filter everything we say.

So maybe part of what’s been stirring in me lately is this: let’s bring back real friendship.

The kind that happens in person. The kind built on real conversations, not gossip. The kind where we peel back the layers, pray with and for each other, and encourage one another in a way that strengthens the heart. The kind where there is still room for laughter and teasing, but not at the expense of what someone is really trying to say.

Real friendship: built on real conversations, where we peel back the layers and pray with and for each other, and encourage one another.

Because I think a lot of us are hungry for that kind of connection, even if we don’t always know how to ask for it.

So no, I’m not actually going through a friend cleanse. I’m just realizing how grateful I am for the people who love me well, and how much I want to love them well in return.

Until next time, your sister in Christ,

Hannah