Dear Diary,
I have had the same best friend since 1992.
Yes. 1992.
We met when we were teenagers, which means Margot has known me through more versions of myself than I can probably remember—and definitely more hairstyles, questionable decisions, and “Girl, what were we thinking?” moments than either of us needs to discuss publicly.
And trust me…
We have stories for DAYS.
Some are sweet.
Some are hilarious.
Some probably shouldn’t be repeated outside of a very small and trusted circle.
And some need to remain exactly where they belong—between us and the good Lord. 😂
People sometimes ask what the secret is to having the same best friend for more than three decades.
The answer is easy.
And complicated.
We never expected each other to stay the same.
🌻 We Were Supposed to Change
Every few years, one of us became someone new.
One of us got married.
One of us became a mother.
One of us moved away.
One of us fell in love.
One of us experienced heartbreak.
One of us lost herself for a while.
One of us found herself again.
Then life changed, and we did it all over again.
People often say friendships end because people change.
I don’t believe that’s true.
People change because they’re supposed to.
Friendships struggle when we expect someone we love to remain exactly who they were when we first met them.
Imagine if Margot expected me to still be the teenage girl she met in 1992.
First of all, absolutely not.
That child had entirely too much confidence about things she knew absolutely nothing about. 😂
And I’m pretty sure teenage Kia would look at 49-year-old Kia and have questions.
A lot of questions.
But that’s the point.
I wasn’t supposed to stay her.
And Margot wasn’t supposed to remain the girl I met either.
We were supposed to become women.
💜 Some Years Were Loud. Some Were Quiet.
There were years when we talked every single day.
There were other years when life got busy, complicated, messy, or simply life-y, and we barely talked at all.
But friendship isn’t always measured by how many times someone’s name appears in your recent calls.
Sometimes friendship is knowing that even after silence, distance, marriages, motherhood, careers, illness, heartbreak, responsibilities, and everything else life throws at you, there is still a place where you belong.
The friend I had at 14 wasn’t the same friend I had at 24.
The woman I knew at 24 wasn’t the same woman at 34.
Or 44.
And she isn’t the same woman today.
Neither am I.
If I had spent all these years demanding the old version of Margot back, I probably would have lost her decades ago.
And if she had demanded that I remain one particular version of Kia, she probably would have lost me too.
The strongest friendships aren’t built on staying the same. They’re built on making room for each other to become.
🌻 I Kept Getting to Know Her
The women who have stayed in my life the longest aren’t women who never changed.
They’re women I kept getting to know.
I learned who they became after marriage.
After divorce.
After motherhood.
After heartbreak.
After moving away.
After careers changed.
After confidence arrived.
After confidence disappeared.
After losing themselves.
And after finding themselves again.
And they did the same for me.
Because sometimes loving someone means meeting the newest version of them and saying:
“Okay. Tell me who you are now.”
Not:
“What happened to the person you used to be?”
There is a difference.
A very important one.
💜 And Then My Health Changed Me Too
Chronic illness introduced Margot to versions of me neither of us could have predicted when we were teenagers.
She knew me before Crohn’s.
She knew me before Myasthenia Gravis.
She knew the version of me who could make plans without first negotiating with her body.
And then she learned this Kia too.
The one who sometimes has to cancel.
The one whose energy isn’t always predictable.
The one whose body occasionally decides it has its own plans.
She never demanded that I become the old Kia again.
She simply made room for the woman I was becoming.
And when illness changes so much about the way you see yourself and the way you move through the world, having someone who doesn’t constantly remind you of who you used to be is a gift.
She didn’t need me to go backward.
She just kept walking forward with me.
🎵 Music Playing…
“You’ve Got a Friend” — Carole King
Some friendships aren’t about being physically beside each other every day.
They’re about knowing that when life gets heavy, complicated, beautiful, ridiculous, or completely unexpected, somewhere in this world is someone who remembers where you started—and still wants to know who you’re becoming.
🌻 To My Best Friend, Margot
Margot,
Thank you for being my person for more than three decades.
Thank you for knowing teenage Kia and still choosing 49-year-old Kia.
We’ve been through so much together.
We’ve laughed.
We’ve cried.
We’ve celebrated.
We’ve had our own lives.
We’ve gone through seasons where we were constantly connected and seasons where life pulled us in different directions.
And through it all, somehow, we kept finding our way back to each other.
You’ve seen some of my highest highs and some of my lowest lows.
You’ve known me healthy.
You’ve known me not-so-healthy.
You’ve watched me become a mother, build a career, move across the country, fall down, get back up, lose pieces of myself, rediscover them, reinvent myself, and become versions of Kia neither of us could have imagined when we first met.
And I’ve had the privilege of watching you become all the women you’ve been too.
Now you’ve recently stepped into another beautiful chapter:
Marriage.
Watching you become a wife and begin this chapter with Phil makes me incredibly happy.
But Phil…
Congratulations on the marriage.
There is, however, one small administrative matter I probably should have addressed before the vows.
I hope you understood this was a shared-custody situation. 😂
You married her.
But she’s still my person.
So yes, you still have to share.
I don’t make the rules.
Okay…
Maybe I just made that one.
But marriage doesn’t erase the chapters that came before it. It adds another chapter to the woman you’ve become.
And just like I’ve done for all these years, I get the privilege of meeting this version of Margot too.
That’s pretty special.
💜 And I Couldn’t Finish Without Joy & Steph
This entry began as a celebration of the anniversary of meeting my forever best friend, Margot.
But the more I wrote about friendship, growth, and the women who have continued getting to know me, the more I realized I couldn’t finish without talking about two other women:
Joy and Steph.
Both have been part of my life for more than 20 years.
And when I really stop to think about that, I’m incredibly blessed.
Having one friendship survive decades is special.
Having three women who have known different versions of me, walked through different seasons with me, and remained part of my life for more than two decades?
I don’t take that lightly.
Our friendships aren’t identical.
They aren’t supposed to be.
Each woman occupies her own space in my life.
Each friendship has its own history.
Its own inside jokes.
Its own memories.
Its own moments of laughter, tears, foolishness, celebration, frustration, and those conversations that start with “Girl…” and somehow turn into an entire therapy session.
For free.
😂
They’ve watched me change.
I’ve watched them change.
And through careers, relationships, family, distance, health, responsibilities, heartbreak, celebrations, and all the unexpected detours life has handed us, they’re still here.
Margot. Joy. Steph.
I am blessed.
Truly.
And I could not do this thing called life without any of you.
Thank you for loving the versions of me you’ve known.
Thank you for making room for the versions you hadn’t met yet.
But most importantly, thank you for allowing me the privilege of doing the same for you.
💭 Reflection Corner
Maybe that’s what I’ve learned from friendships measured in decades.
The goal was never to remain the women we were when we met.
How boring would that have been?
The goal was to grow—and somehow continue choosing one another along the way.
Because friendship isn’t loving someone only for who they were when you met them.
It’s loving them through every chapter of who they become.
There will be chapters when you’re inseparable.
There may be chapters when you barely speak.
There will be weddings.
Babies.
Divorces.
Moves.
Careers.
Illness.
Heartbreak.
Healing.
Reinvention.
And hopefully, lots and lots of laughter.
The people who truly belong in our lives don’t require us to remain frozen in the version of ourselves they first loved.
They give us room to become.
And then they introduce themselves to the new version.
Again.
And again.
And again.
So today, I’m celebrating more than the anniversary of meeting my best friend.
I’m celebrating the incredible blessing of long friendship.
The kind with history.
The kind with receipts. 😂
The kind where somebody knows enough about you to write an unauthorized biography, so you really have no choice but to remain friends forever.
And the kind where, after all these years, you can look around and realize:
These women knew who I was. They know who I am. And they’re still here to see who I become next.
Margot, Joy, and Steph—
I love you.
I appreciate you.
And I am beyond grateful that I get to keep getting to know you.
🌻💜
Thank you for reading another chapter of The Dual Diagnosis Diaries | Kia’s Journey. 🌻
If this entry made you think of someone who has loved you through multiple versions of yourself, tell them.
Celebrate the people who make room for your growth and allow you to make room for theirs.
And if you’re fortunate enough to have friendships measured in decades, don’t ever mistake their longevity for something ordinary.
That kind of love deserves to be celebrated too.
💜 Like, subscribe, and share The Dual Diagnosis Diaries as we continue talking about health, life, friendship, growth, and everything that happens in between.
Founder • Author • Advocate • Future Wellness Coach
Kia Lorice
The Dual Diagnosis Diaries 💜
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