Lesslee Dort

My whole day’s mood can be thrown off if I’m wearing uncomfortable underwear. Think about it. When it’s too tight, you’re tugging, pulling, shifting – constantly trying to find that ‘sweet spot’ of comfort. When it’s too loose, it creeps, bunches, and twists. There’s a reason our undergarments are called foundational clothes.

Foundation refers to the underlying support of something: buildings, outfits, even friendships.

Until we know who we are, until we can embrace the true building blocks of our being, the supports we put around ourselves and the stories we tell ourselves are in danger of collapsing. If our basic self isn’t at rest, then the true essence of ourselves is always at risk.

And just as with clothing, we sometimes can’t really know who fits us until we’ve tried on a few styles. In doing so, we learn who we are at our core. After all, can we truly identify who our tribe is before we know ourselves?

Every so often, our search for belonging leads us to camouflage ourselves. We find a circle, a group, a partner, and we subtly redesign ourselves to ‘fit.’ You may have experienced this phenomenon. It can sneak up on you. For me, it’s like I’m suddenly holding my breath. Only when I leave the group do I realize I’m breathing freely again. I’ve let down my protective shield.

A true community is built on open communication, trust, and acceptance. It can weather discomfort because it’s grounded in honesty. These genuine communities value each person’s uniqueness – not uniformity.

There’s a scene in the movie Runaway Bride that always makes me pause. Julia Roberts plays a woman who keeps running away from her own weddings. In the end, she realizes she doesn’t know who she is; she just keeps becoming someone’s perfect partner. At one point, she realizes she doesn’t even know how she likes her eggs because she’s always ordered them the way her fiancé-at-the-time liked them. Finally, she sits down and cooks every kind of egg to decide for herself. It’s a simplistic life-application of a much deeper theme. You can’t know who you belong with until you know what kind of ‘eggs’ you like.

The answer for us all lies at the intersection of authenticity and community.

If you feel you need to hide facets of yourself in a relationship, that isn’t real belonging – it’s conditional acceptance. And conditional acceptance is brittle. It fractures the moment you change.

I’ve had many wonderful friendships throughout my life – ones that felt deep until they didn’t. Often, it wasn’t that anyone changed for the worse. It was simply that I changed. Or they did. Or we both did. We grow, life keeps moving, and our needs shift a little. What once fit perfectly can start to pinch. We don’t always notice it happening; we just wake up one day realizing that the comfort we used to feel isn’t there anymore.

It’s easy to assume something’s wrong when that happens. But maybe it’s not about fault. Maybe it’s about evolution. We are constantly becoming new versions of ourselves, and sometimes that means the communities or relationships that once felt right no longer do. The trick isn’t to cling or to blame, but to notice when it’s time to loosen the elastic a bit or even change styles altogether.

I’m not talking about tossing away every relationship that starts to feel snug. Marriage, long-term partnerships, and deep friendships are meant to stretch with us. They won’t stay the same shape, but if both people are willing to grow, adjust, and keep finding the best fit together, the bond continues to grow and strengthen along with the relationship. The fabric softens. The seams give a little. And that’s what makes it durable.

Real friendship and real love stretch when you do. They don’t unravel when you shift. The people who truly see you won’t ask you to stay the same to keep the peace. They’ll make room for your evolution, and you’ll make room for theirs.

Maybe that’s why the right people feel like your favorite article of clothing – soft, familiar, easy. You don’t have to think about it; you just move comfortably through your day. Friendship, like good underwear, isn’t meant to pinch or twist. It’s meant to let you breathe.

Lesslee Dort is a writer who hopes her essays and guided journals inspire readers to pause, reflect, and connect with themselves and those around them. Copies of her books are available for purchase at The Alpena News and Amazon. Reach Lesslee via email – lesslee@regardingthejourney.com. Read her here on