When I picture my future, I don’t see a white picket fence, a partner unloading groceries from the car, or children playing in the backyard. Instead, I imagine something closer to a scene from the “Golden Girls” : a cosy home filled with laughter, a kitchen table where friends gather to gossip, and a sense of belonging that doesn’t depend on romance .

As a millennial woman, the cultural script handed to me was pretty clear: adulthood meant finding a partner and, eventually, having kids. Friendships, while cherished, were positioned as secondary, almost disposable once “real life” began. But as I’ve moved into my 30s, I’ve felt an increasing pull to resist that script.

I’ve started asking: What if friendships weren’t just the backdrop to life, but the foundation? In my daydreams, it’s

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