What I Learned During a 5-Hour Talk With My Oldest Friend

Misha and I had big plans for brunch, shopping and more. What we chose to do instead was the self-care pause I didn't know I needed.

by

Michelle Petties

 
Published December 29, 2025
woman holding mug, tea, coffee, woman sitting on couch, illustration
Dajah Callen

Who would you like to have a long catch-up conversation with? What’s a good way to slow down over the holidays? Share your thoughts in the comments below.

It’s true, sometimes it’s hard to know if you’re coming or going—the hustle of life, the bustle of the season—endless meetings, family responsibilities, holiday shopping, and everything in between often converge into one big ball of stress. It all makes me think about how important it is to pause. It makes me consider what it feels like to be really pampered. It makes me wonder what that Bible verse “Peace, be still” actually means, and how we can find small moments to care for our true selves.

A few months ago, after a whirlwind stretch of speaking engagements, I had an opportunity to spend a few days with a childhood bestie. Misha and I have been friends since we were five years old, but we’ve known each other even longer than that, since before we were in the womb, you might say. Our great-grandparents were friends. Our grandparents, too. Our mothers walked through life together. So, it was only natural that Misha and I would carry that connection forward into an abiding kinship.

Here’s the thing: far too often, ‘just being’ isn’t easy. For so many of us, especially as women, especially as Black women, our lives have been shaped around constant motion, constant doing, constant proving. We measure ourselves by what we accomplish, what we produce, and who we take care of.

She was so excited when I confirmed the dates, “Oh, when you’re here, we’ll go to a birthday party. I have some tickets to a concert. We’ll see how the rest of the weekend goes, maybe some shopping.” When I arrived, Misha welcomed me with open arms, a guest room that felt like home, and a full weekend. Me? I was just happy to see her and hang out for a while.

Sunday morning, we woke up, walked the dog, and took a slow, winding stroll. We talked; we laughed; we decided on brunch and shopping. After that, we’d see how we felt. The plans sounded lovely and low-pressure.

We went back to her condo, and Misha put the kettle on for tea.

It was 9 a.m.

We sat down, planning to sip for a bit, shower, get dressed, and head out to brunch.

Well, five hours later, we were still on the sofa. Still sipping. Still talking. Still wrapped in the warmth of the moment.

Just two sister-friends, surrounded by ancestral love, allowing themselves to do what they hadn’t done in far too long: rest, connect, be still.

No judgment. No expectations. No pressure.

And here’s the thing: far too often, “just being” isn’t easy. For so many of us, especially as women, especially as Black women, our lives have been shaped around constant motion, constant doing, constant proving. We measure ourselves by what we accomplish, what we produce, and who we take care of. Sitting still can feel uncomfortable, even wasteful, because the world has taught us that our value is in our busyness. But “just being” is different. It’s allowing yourself to exist without performance, without productivity, without apology. It’s permitting yourself to breathe, to feel, to notice, to rest. It’s choosing to listen to your own heartbeat instead of the endless noise of demands and deadlines.

That morning on the sofa reminded me that being is not the absence of doing—it’s the presence of self. It’s honoring the truth that we are worthy of love, connection, and peace simply because we are.

It was the perfect way to pause, get centered, feel pampered, relax, and take a break. Those hours with her were so precious. Not to feel hectic, and to know that we could permit ourselves just to sit, to talk, and to connect. To celebrate each other, friendship, ancestry, ancestors, and legacy.

We didn’t have to do anything. It felt like we had all the time in the world—and we did. There was no pressure for us to do anything but be present with one another.

Sometimes that’s all we need: to permit ourselves to be present with one another, even amid the chaos of too much on our plates, hectic schedules, the holidays, and busyness. The notion of permitting ourselves to be present with one another is sometimes the most important gift of all.

True pampering isn’t always about expensive spa treatments or elaborate self-care routines. Sometimes it’s as simple as allowing ourselves to slow down, to savor conversation, to let time stretch without the tyranny of schedules dictating every move. It’s about recognizing that our well-being doesn’t always require doing more—sometimes it requires doing less.

As Black women, we’ve been conditioned to believe that productivity equals worth, that being busy means being important. That morning with my friend taught me something different. It reminded me that presence is a present we give ourselves and others. When we’re truly present, we’re not thinking about the next thing on our to-do list or the text we need to return; we’re fully engaged in the moment, allowing ourselves to receive the nourishment that comes from genuine connection.

This kind of pampering—the kind that feeds our souls rather than just our schedules—is available to us every day if we choose it. It might look like putting your phone in another room during dinner, taking a walk without podcasts or music, or simply sitting quietly with your morning tea before the day demands your attention.

Holidays often amplify our tendency to fill every moment with activity, but what if this season we practiced a different kind of celebration? What if we chose being over doing, presence over presents?

That five-hour conversation with Misha didn’t cost us anything except the time we thought we didn’t have, but discovered we did have when we permitted ourselves to claim it. In that space between planned activities, we found something more valuable than any spa treatment: we found peace. And sometimes, that’s the most luxurious pampering of all.

Oh, and that concert? Turns out, it was epic – Gladys, Stephanie, Patti, Chaka, and Stevie. Nuff said.

PS. I am attaching the picture that inspired the story.

Michelle Petties and Her Friend.jpeg

Who would you like to have a long catch-up conversation with? What’s a good way to slow down over the holidays? Share your thoughts in the comments below.

Michelle Petties is a Food Story coach, recovering food addict, and emotional eating expert who gives voice to what happens at the intersection of food, feelings, and everyday life. Her award-winning memoir, Leaving Large: The Stories of a Food Addict, is not a weight-loss book — it's a powerful reckoning with the past and a path toward healing and wholeness. A speaker and workshop facilitator, Michelle helps participants uncover their food truths and reclaim their power.