‘Sisterhood’ With God

Planning a birthday will really show you the different pockets of your life.

You open the guest list and suddenly you’re looking at your entire history.

School friends.

Industry friends.

Work friends.

Friends who became family.

People you speak to every day.

People you might not speak to for weeks, but when you do, nothing has changed.

And then there are people who were once close to you but no longer fit the life you’re building.

Not because anyone is evil.

Sometimes life just moves.

I used to think friendship was mainly about how long you’d known someone.

Now I think it’s about how safely you can grow around them.

Can they celebrate you without making your win about them?

Can they correct you without embarrassing you?

Can they sit with you when you don’t have anything entertaining to say?

Can they understand that you might be Mimi The Music Blogger outside, but sometimes you just need to be Minou?

No performance.

No update.

No clever insight.

Just you.

I’ve realised that building a tribe is also about choosing perspective.

Because when you’re alone with your thoughts for too long, your thoughts start acting like facts.

One bad day becomes a bad life.

One rejection becomes proof that nothing is working.

One awkward moment becomes something you replay for seven business days.

But then you speak to your girls.

And suddenly the situation looks different.

One friend reminds you how far you’ve come.

Another tells you the truth you were trying to avoid.

Another makes you laugh until the thing doesn’t feel as heavy anymore.

That is perspective.

Sometimes God answers prayers through people.

Not always through some huge spiritual moment.

Sometimes the answer is a phone call.

A voice note.

Someone sitting on your sofa while you rant.

Someone saying, “Mimi, respectfully, you are doing too much.”

Or, “No, you’re not overreacting. That was actually weird.”

Both are ministry btw.

Sisterhood has also taught me that different friends will meet different parts of you.

One friend understands the career ambition.

One understands your faith.

One understands your family.

One understands the silly side of you that wants to make presentations about absolutely nothing and give out trophies.

You don’t have to force one person to be everything.

That was a big lesson for me.

Community isn’t about finding one perfect person.

It’s about allowing yourself to be held by a collection of people who love you honestly.

And I’ve had to learn how to be that friend too.

Not just the person who receives support.

The person who gives it.

The person who listens without rushing to fix everything.

The person who celebrates someone else even when I’m still waiting for my own answer.

The person who apologises.

The person who checks in.

The person who understands that love is an action, not just something cute we say under birthday posts.

I think God has been teaching me that isolation can distort your view of your life.

You can forget who you are when you only listen to yourself.

But healthy friendships remind you.

They remind you of the prayers you prayed last year.

They remind you that the opportunity you’re treating as normal now was once something you were begging God for.

They remind you that you’re not starting from zero.

You have history.

You have evidence.

You have people.

As I enter 29, I’m becoming more intentional about who gets access to me.

Not from a place of ego.

From a place of understanding.

Your tribe shapes how you see yourself.

It shapes what you tolerate.

It shapes what you believe is possible.

I don’t need a room full of people who agree with everything I do.

I need people who can see me clearly.

People who can hold the dream and the reality at the same time.

People who know the public version of me, but still care about the private one.

That kind of friendship is a gift.

And this birthday, I’m very aware that I didn’t make it here alone.