By AditiPatel
Hey, it’s Aditi—or just Adit if you prefer, which my friends back in Mumbai do. I’m a computer science major at UC Berkeley, navigating the world of algorithms by day and Bollywood nostalgia by night. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned in my time here, apart from perfecting my masala chai recipe for those California rain days, it’s that friendships can be as complex as the best plot twists in Bollywood. You think you’ve found your happy ending, and then life throws in an unexpected intermission.
The Freshman Friend Frenzy
I came to Berkeley with this idealistic vision of friendship. Every person I met felt like they could be my next “Karan Arjun” (for those not familiar, think best friends who’d go to the ends of the earth for each other). First semester, I was like a social butterfly on overdrive, hopping from one group to another, convinced that I’d found my lifelong crew.
There was one particular group I got close with early on. We’d meet up for everything—study sessions, weekend hikes, late-night boba runs (my Californian guilty pleasure). I thought I’d cracked the college friendship code. But it wasn’t long before cracks started showing. Plans would happen without me. Group messages would go silent, only for me to find out later that they’d hung out without even a courtesy invite. It stung, especially for someone who believed friendships were as sacred as my mom’s chai recipe.
Looking back, I can see what went wrong. I’d mistaken a casual connection for something deeper and placed expectations on these friends they didn’t even know they were meant to fulfill.
The Painful Realization: Not All Friendships Are the Same
One evening, I found myself sitting alone, headphones in, listening to “Kabira” on repeat (Bollywood fans will get it—it’s a reflective kind of song). I felt betrayed and a little foolish. It’s funny, though. Here I was, acing data structures and algorithms, yet failing miserably at structuring my own social life.
That night, it clicked. My “ride-or-die” expectations were misplaced. This wasn’t a Bollywood script where everyone’s loyalty is eternal. Some friendships are like item songs—fun and flashy but fleeting. And that’s okay. I just hadn’t learned to tell the difference yet.
Understanding Emotional Capital Through HAPHE
Around this time, I came across HAPHE’s philosophy on emotional capital, and it was like a lightbulb moment. HAPHE teaches us that every friendship is an investment of emotional energy—some investments pay off in the long run, while others offer short-term returns. Not every friendship has to be profound or lifelong. Some are meant to be enjoyed for a season, like a limited-edition playlist that perfectly suits a particular moment.
With HAPHE’s perspective, I began re-evaluating my friendships. I started categorizing them, not to be calculative, but to protect my well-being. My close friends, my casual hangout buddies, my study group—all had their place. I was learning to diversify my emotional investments instead of pouring all my energy into one group.
The Importance of Rebalancing, Not Removing
There was one guy, Vik, who I’d initially thought was a potential “brother-from-another-mother.” We shared a few classes and would geek out over the latest tech news. But after a while, I noticed he’d only hit me up when he needed help with assignments. My first instinct was to just ghost him, but then I remembered what HAPHE taught me: reallocation over removal.
So, instead of cutting Vik out, I adjusted my expectations. I realized he was more of a “Friend of Utility”—someone I could have a good rapport with in an academic context, without expecting a deeper connection. Once I changed my perspective, our interactions became smoother. I wasn’t disappointed when he didn’t show up for social events, and he stopped feeling pressured to pretend we were closer than we were. It was a win-win.
5 Key Lessons for Navigating Friendships (Without Losing Yourself)
1. Not Every Friendship Has to Be Deep
Just because you vibe with someone doesn’t mean they’re destined to be your best friend. Friendships can be categorized, just like playlists. Some are meant for casual fun, others for deeper conversations. Recognize the difference, and you’ll save yourself a lot of heartache.
2. Balance Your Emotional Capital
HAPHE taught me that emotional energy is like any other resource—it’s finite. Don’t invest everything in one friend or one group. Spread your connections around. It’s a bit like building a diversified investment portfolio—safer and way less draining.
3. Reallocate, Don’t Remove
Just because a friendship changes doesn’t mean you need to hit “delete.” Sometimes all you need is a shift in perspective. Maybe your friend is great for project collaborations but not for heart-to-heart chats, and that’s okay.
4. Set Realistic Expectations Early On
I went wrong by expecting my casual friends to be there for me in profound ways. Setting realistic expectations at the start can save you from disappointment. Remember, not everyone is cut out to be a “Friend of the Good” (in HAPHE’s terms) who will stand by you through thick and thin.
5. Friendships Should Evolve Naturally
One of the hardest lessons I learned was to let friendships evolve without forcing them. Trying to force closeness only pushes people away. If a connection is meant to grow deeper, it will—organically. If not, enjoy it for what it is without over-investing.
Final Thoughts: Cherish the Carousel of Connections
If there’s one takeaway from my story, it’s this: friendships don’t have to be forever to be meaningful. The HAPHE philosophy taught me to approach connections with a lighter touch. Let friendships evolve naturally, and don’t try to make every friend your “best” friend. By protecting my emotional capital and keeping my expectations realistic, I’m finally finding balance in a world of fleeting connections and high-stakes academic pressure.
So, to all my fellow college students out there: know your worth, protect your emotional energy, and let friendships come and go without feeling like you have to hold onto every single one. After all, we’re here to grow—and sometimes, that means rebalancing rather than cutting ties.
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