25 Aug Some Friends Are for Missions, Some for Meals And Some for Misery

Good Morning!

One of the most liberating lessons I have learned about friendships is that they are not all meant to serve the same purpose. It sounds obvious when written down, yet so many of us suffer heartbreak, disappointment, and even the quiet bitterness of unmet expectations because we try to make a friendship something it was never intended to be. Part of growing up, I think, is learning that people come into our lives for different reasons and at different depths, and that discerning the type of friendship we share with someone can save us from unnecessary pain.

The confusion begins when we try to force a friendship that belongs in one category into another. We meet someone in a particular context, we share moments, we grow close in certain ways, and then one of us assumes that this relationship must extend further. However, reality reminds us, often harshly, that friendships take on different forms and different purposes. Knowing this truth does not make friendships shallow; instead, it helps us honour them for what they are rather than resenting them for what they are not.

Over the years, I have found that many friendships fall into three broad categories: missions, meals, and misery. Understanding which one you are in with someone can change everything.

Some Friends Are For Missions

There are friendships that are built around the things we do together. These are “mission friendships.” They are born in moments of shared purpose, forged in the fire of common vision. You meet these friends while serving God on a project, while starting a business, while campaigning for a cause, or while building something that is bigger than yourselves. I made a range of these friends when I was starting The Common Sense Network, and they were also starting their businesses around the same time.

Mission friends are energising because what unites you is not casual interest but shared pursuit. The hours you spend working together, brainstorming, problem-solving, and pushing forward toward a goal create a unique bond. You may not know every detail about their personal life, you may not even speak every day, but when the work calls, you find yourselves in lockstep.

Looking back, I can see how many of the most impactful seasons of my life were defined by mission friendships. The camaraderie of chasing the same vision gave me strength, especially in moments when the goal felt impossible. Some of those friendships have lasted long beyond the mission itself. Others ended naturally when the work ended, and that is fine too. Mission friendships do not need to become lifelong personal friendships in order to have value. Their beauty is in what is built together.

The trouble comes when we expect every mission friend to automatically become a “meal” friend. Not every colleague, co-labourer, or creative partner is meant to move seamlessly into your inner circle. When we mistake mission friendships for something more, we often end up disappointed. We wonder why the person who worked tirelessly with us on a project is not the one who calls us on our birthday or checks in during a difficult season. The answer is simple: they were sent for the mission, not necessarily for the meal.

Friends for Meals

If mission friends are about what we build together, meal friends are about what we share together. These are the people we invite into our homes, around our tables, into the daily rhythms of life. To share a meal is to extend intimacy, to open up space where work is set aside and hearts connect.

Meal friends are not just those who stand beside you on a project; they are those who stand beside you in life. They are the ones you laugh with until your stomach hurts, the ones who have seen you in tracksuits as well as tailored suits, the ones who bear your burdens and let you bear theirs. With meal friends, the relationship stretches beyond the productivity of what you are building into the sacred simplicity of who you are.

When I think of my meal friends, I think of long conversations that start at dinner and spill late into the night. I think of moments when joy is multiplied simply because it is shared. I think of the kind of friendship that lingers long after the plates have been cleared away.

But here too lies a temptation. We sometimes try to make a meal friend into a misery friend before we have discerned whether they have the emotional capacity to sit with us in our lowest moments. Meals can be light, celebratory, or nourishing, but misery requires something deeper: a willingness to step into the darkness with us.

Friends for Misery

The hardest and most revealing friendships are the ones that show themselves in seasons of misery. This is where I learned one of the most painful but important lessons about friendship.

When my mum passed away last year, I was shaken not only by the loss itself but also by how it reshaped my view of my friendships. Grief has a way of stripping away illusions. It exposes who can sit with you in silence, who can hold your pain without trying to fix it, and who quietly slips away because the weight of misery is too heavy for them to carry.

I was surprised. Some friends I thought would be present were nowhere to be seen. They were kind in passing but absent in the moments I truly needed them. At first, I felt hurt and even betrayed. However, over time, I realised that perhaps I was asking them to give what they simply could not. Not everyone has the ability to enter into grief. Some people do not know how, some people cannot bear it, and some people were never meant to.

At the same time, I discovered other friendships I had overlooked. Friends I had taken for granted, or thought of as “occasional companions,” became the ones who carried me through my misery. They were not the loudest friends or even the closest in proximity, but they were willing to step into the valley with me. They were there in ways that words cannot quite capture.

That season forced me to re-evaluate my expectations. It was not about condemning those who could not sit with me in grief, but about recognising the kind of friends they were and were not. Some friends are great at missions but not at misery. Some are faithful at meals but falter in darkness. And some, precious few, are companions for misery, the ones who hold you together when everything is falling apart.

The Joy Of Reassessing Expectations

Coming through those experiences has taught me a new way of seeing friendships. Just because someone is a friend for missions does not mean they must be a friend for meals or misery. Just because someone is a friend for meals does not mean they need to join me in every mission I pursue. Also just because someone is a friend for misery does not mean they are the person I should start a business with or invite into every celebration.

The wisdom is in knowing which friend is which, and then honouring that friendship for what it is without demanding that it become something else. This does not cheapen friendship. If anything, it dignifies it. It allows us to celebrate the gift without forcing the shape.

When I look at my friendships now, I ask myself: is this someone I am united with in mission? Is this someone I share life and meals with? Is this someone who can step with me into misery? The answers are not always what I expect, but they help me manage my heart.

Perhaps the challenge for you is to stop resenting certain friends for not being what you hoped they would be. Maybe they are exactly the kind of friend they are meant to be, and your freedom will come in accepting that. Or perhaps there are hidden friendships in your life, people you have overlooked because you only saw them in one category, who might surprise you with their presence in another.

Either way, the goal is not to box people in but to live with clarity. Friendships are too precious to waste on misplaced expectations. They are gifts, each in their own right. Some are for missions, some are for meals, and some are for misery.

If you can learn to tell the difference, you will save yourself much heartache, and you will also learn to cherish each friend for the role they truly play in your life.

As you navigate these changes, be kind to yourself, and of course, be kind to other people too. You can make decisions, but not share them with people and force them to start thinking about themselves differently.

As always, be kind to yourself as you navigate these realities. Have an amazing week!

M.T. Omoniyi

The Untold Journey: Finding My Voice & Reaching Millions | Common Sense Pod 107

In this episode, we sit down with Suli Breaks, the poet and storyteller whose words have reached millions and shaped conversations on education, identity, and creativity. From his viral video “Why I Hate School but Love Education” to delivering keynotes for Google and The Times, Suli has become a sought-after voice across stages and screens worldwide.

We go beyond the headlines and the viral moments, exploring the stories, struggles, and pivotal experiences that shaped his journey. Suli shares the behind-the-scenes of how he found his voice, built a global audience, and stayed true to his craft while navigating success, pressure, and purpose.