True friends are not the people who tell you what you want to hear.

I am sitting here listening to my twenty-year-old son discussing homework with my twelve-year-old.

The older sibling is not helping the younger one; he is imparting his advice, drawing on his own school experience, and it is heartwarming to listen to.

The crux of the counsel is to do the work.

Don’t cheat. Don’t ask a friend. Don’t take a shortcut. Learn now, so that you don’t have to live with the consequences later.

At this stage of life, the consequences seem far away and minimal. More revision at a later date, lower grades in exams, and finding it harder to understand future lessons.

Nonetheless, the younger child is being told, unequivocally, that trying now will pay dividends in the future.

Isn’t that the lesson we all wish we had mastered years ago, the lesson that so often we fail at, whatever age we are?

The twelve-year-old has embraced his brother’s teachings and is putting in the effort.

It is not a conversation I have had the same success with, despite imparting the exact same advice.

This, I believe, is true friendship.

A relationship between two people with enough respect and love for each other that they can tell some home truths, make difficult observations, and suggest a beneficial change that the receiver of the advice will not like.

There was nothing in this conversation to benefit the older sibling, other than a happier future for his brother. That, my wonderful readers, is THE BEST FRIENDSHIP.

I have had the incredible honour of spending a long weekend with a group of ten women who have been friends for several decades. I was welcomed into this group by one of the women with whom I had become close after bonding over our first pregnancies.

We have known each other for over twenty years, and being invited to join this annual event has proved to be one of the most wonderful experiences of my life.

The women, all now post-fifty, have lived.

My word, have they seen things!

Joy and sadness beyond measure. Illness, death, marriage, divorce, children, so many hilarious memories and so much heartache along the way. They are strong, resilient, capable human beings who have given far more than they have taken from life.

What they all have in common is compassion, empathy and honesty.

The friendships are deep and unshakeable, despite some tears and some hard-hitting truths.

We can all see each other. We can all see how we make our own lives harder than they need to be. We can all see where we need to let go, and where we could do with directing our focus.

And we are not afraid to tell each other.

If only we could teach this to our children and replicate it in our romantic relationships.

I have a tendency to push too hard, to overthink every consequence, and run myself ragged. I exercise A LOT. I wish those around me would exercise more, eat healthier, drink less, try harder to take care of their bodies.

Bodies, as you can imagine, play a big part in the conversations on my girls’ weekends.

Our bodies are, after all, the one thing we can rely on, the only thing guaranteed to be with us until we take our last breath, a responsive machine that is directly affected by all of our choices and behaviours.

I want mine to last me a long time, to keep me fit and well, so that I am able to keep doing the things I love. To write. To imagine. To walk. To lift weights. To dance. To swim. To travel. To explore. To love.

I want the same for the people around me. For my family and my friends.

If I see them making a choice that will damage their bodies, I want to tell them. Some listen, some don’t.

It is the friendship we share that drives my often blunt advice, the love I have for them, and the desire to have them in my life for as long as possible.

Everyone must make their own decisions in life, of course, but a good friend is needed to flag up the choices that might do harm.

Even if the advice is ignored. The care is logged.

Whether or not my youngest will keep working hard is debatable. That’s a choice he needs to make himself.

What he will always remember is that his brother cares about his future.

That’s true friendship, right there.