As I grow older, I think friendship between women is a thing to

“As I grow older, I think friendship between women is a thing to cherish.” These words, spoken by Susan Glaspell, are not merely a reflection of age, but of awakening. In them lies the quiet wisdom of a woman who has walked through the seasons of life—through youth’s bright laughter, through struggle, through solitude—and has come to see that among all the treasures the heart may hold, friendship between women is one of the rarest and most enduring. It is not born of desire nor ambition, but of shared understanding, of silent strength, of a bond forged in both joy and pain.

When Glaspell wrote and spoke of women, she saw not fragile beings, but pillars of compassion and resilience, standing together in a world that often sought to divide them. Her stories, like Trifles and A Jury of Her Peers, reveal a world where women understood one another in ways men did not, where they found in each other’s eyes a reflection of their own unspoken struggles. The origin of her quote arises from this vision—from decades of witnessing how women, when bound by empathy rather than rivalry, create a force of quiet endurance that holds communities, families, and dreams together.

To cherish such friendship is to recognize its sacredness. For the friendship of women is unlike any other—it grows not in the sunlight of ease, but in the shadows of burden. It is the shared glance across a crowded room when words cannot be spoken. It is the hand that steadies another’s trembling heart. It is the laughter that defies despair, the presence that remains when all else fades. As the years pass, the noise of the world grows dim, and what remains bright are those bonds—woven softly yet enduringly—between women who have seen one another through both storms and dawns.

Think of Eleanor Roosevelt and Lorena Hickok, whose friendship weathered scandal, distance, and the harsh scrutiny of the public eye. Their letters—thousands of them—speak of a bond deep and sustaining, of two souls finding in each other both understanding and courage. In times when the world expected silence from women, they gave each other voice. Through encouragement, they became greater than they were alone. Such stories remind us that the friendships of women are not idle companionships—they are alliances of spirit, nurturing both tenderness and defiance.

In every age, women have carried unseen burdens. They have lifted one another quietly, often without recognition. One woman brings bread to another’s table. One listens through tears at midnight. One guards another’s secret, another’s dignity, another’s hope. These are not small acts; they are threads in the great tapestry of human strength. And Glaspell, in her later years, saw clearly that such friendship is not to be taken for granted, but to be honored, protected, and celebrated.

As we grow older, too, we must learn what she learned—that to cherish is not merely to enjoy, but to preserve. Friendship, like a delicate flame, must be tended with care. Speak kindly to those who walk beside you. Do not measure friendship by constant contact or ease, but by trust, by the willingness to forgive, by the courage to show your truest self. The women who stand beside you are your mirrors and your roots; they remind you who you have been, and who you can still become.

So let Glaspell’s wisdom be your guide: treasure the women who share your journey. Reach out to the friend you have neglected. Thank the one who stood by you in silence. Rejoice in her victories as though they were your own. The world often teaches competition, but the heart thrives on connection. Friendship between women—deep, loyal, and compassionate—is not merely a comfort; it is a legacy, a quiet revolution of care passed from one generation to the next.

For when all else falls away—ambition, beauty, applause—it is these friendships that remain, shining like embers in the dusk of life. They warm the soul, remind us of our shared humanity, and whisper the eternal truth that no woman ever walks alone who has known the gift of another’s steadfast heart. Cherish them, as Glaspell did—for they are among the finest jewels time can bestow.