Hannah Abrahams

The Most Important Thing: Supporting Young People’s Friendships Through Adolescence

friends-spending-time-together

This is the third in a series of blogs on navigating adolescent transitions. Parts 1 and 2 explore the psychology of the teenage brain, emotional regulation, and supporting young people with additional needs.

If you ask most young people what matters most to them about school, the answer is rarely the curriculum. It is almost never the timetable, the building, or the uniform. It is their friends. Who they will sit with at lunch. Whether the person they fell out with last week has forgiven them. Whether they will still be in the same form group next year.

Friendship is, at this stage of development, the most important driver of a young person’s experience of school — and of adolescence more broadly. This is not sentimentality. It is developmental reality.  Somewhere during early adolescence, the gravitational centre of a young person’s social world begins to shift — away from family and toward peers. The opinions, approval, and belonging offered by friends start to carry more weight than those of parents or carers. This is not rejection. It is exactly what is supposed to happen.

Understanding this — really sitting with it — changes how we approach the friendship difficulties that are an inevitable part of growing up.

What Adolescence Is Actually Asking Of Young People

Adolescence is defined by five converging characteristics, each of which places its own demands on a young person: biological growth and development, an undefined and shifting sense of status, increased pressure to make decisions, intensifying external pressures from school, family and society, and — threading through all of it — the search for self. Who am I? Where do I belong? What do I stand for? What do other people see when they look at me?

Friendships are not separate from this search. They are the arena in which it happens. Young people try on identities, test values, experience loyalty and betrayal, learn about repair and rupture, and gradually develop a sense of who they are in relation to others. This work is essential, and it is not always tidy.

It is also, in part, work that we have to let them do. One of the things adolescence asks of parents and carers — and this one can be quietly painful — is permission. Permission to let go. Permission for your child to need you differently. Permission, sometimes, for their friendships to matter more in a given moment than your relationship does. This is not a failure of attachment. It is its success. A young person who feels securely enough held at home is precisely the young person who can risk reaching outward.

How We Can Support — Without Taking Over

The instinct, when we see our children struggling socially, is to fix it. To intervene, to solve, to make it better. And sometimes — rarely — direct intervention is the right call. But, more often, what young people need from us looks quite different. It is quieter, steadier, and requires us to tolerate more uncertainty than we might like.

Here are some ways to walk alongside rather than stepping in front:

Watchful waiting. There is a kind of attentive, patient observation that is itself a form of support. During times of transition especially — a new school year, a move, a shift in the friendship group — watching carefully, noticing what is happening, and holding your observations lightly before drawing conclusions is often more useful than acting quickly. Not every social difficulty needs to be solved. Some of them need to be witnessed.

Being genuinely curious. Not interrogating. Not advising. Just being interested — in who their friends are, in what those friendships mean to them, in why particular relationships matter. Young people can tell the difference between a parent who is curious and a parent who is gathering information in order to problem-solve. Curiosity, without agenda, builds the kind of trust that means a young person is more likely to come to you when something is genuinely wrong.


Walking and talking alongside. There is something about side-by-side conversation — in the car, on a walk, doing something together — that lowers the stakes in a way that sitting opposite each other simply does not. Eye contact can feel intense and exposing when you are trying to talk about something difficult. Movement helps. Shared activity helps. Some of the most important conversations happen when neither person is quite looking at the other. 


Recalling and modulating your own experiences. Sharing stories from your own friendships — the ones that worked, the ones that hurt, the ones that surprised you — does several things at once. It normalises what your child is experiencing. It models that adults have navigated difficulty and come through it. And it gently communicates that you understand this territory from the inside, not just from the outside looking in. The key word here is modulating: not hijacking the conversation with your own story, but offering it lightly,
as a point of connection rather than a lesson.


Modelling reparation. One of the most powerful things young people can witness is an adult who gets something wrong in a relationship and then repairs it — who apologises, who goes back, who acknowledges their part without excessive self-flagellation. The message this sends is not that adults are perfect, but that relationships can survive rupture. That conflict does not mean the end. That repair is possible, and that it matters enough to try. 


Using film and television as a way in. Watching something together — a film, a series, even a reality show — and then talking about the relationships in it can be a remarkably low-threat way of exploring friendship dynamics. What makes that friendship work? How did they handle that falling out? What would you have done differently? What advice would you give that character? You are talking about the fictional characters, but you are building a shared framework for thinking about real relationships. And you are doing it without your child feeling scrutinised.

Providing a Framework Without Writing the Script

One of the most important things we can offer a young person navigating a difficult friendship is a framework — a way of thinking about what is happening and what their options might be — rather than a prescribed solution.


This includes providing permission to leave a relationship that is no longer serving them. Some friendships run their course. Some become unkind. Some were never particularly healthy to begin with. Young people often feel enormous loyalty, or fear, or uncertainty about what their social world would look like without a particular person in it — even when that person is causing them harm. They may need an adult to say, clearly and without drama: it is okay to step back from this. You are allowed to choose different.

What they generally do not need is for us to intervene directly, to call the other child’s parents, or to make the decision for them. What they need is language — some sense of how they might navigate the situation — and the confidence that we will be there whatever they decide. Providing a framework and a script is different from taking over. One builds their capacity. The other bypasses it.

Screens, Social Media, and the Boundaries Question

No conversation about adolescent friendship is complete without addressing screens and social media — and this one warrants real thoughtfulness, particularly from parents.

 

Social media is not simply a distraction from friendship. For many young people, it is a primary medium through which friendship is conducted, maintained, and expressed. The group chat, the shared reel, the Snapchat streak — these are not trivial. They carry social meaning. To dismiss them entirely is to misunderstand where significant parts of your child’s social world actually live.

 

At the same time, social media amplifies everything — the warmth and the cruelty, the inclusion and the exclusion — and does so at a speed and scale that has no real precedent. The social anxiety that might once have eased over a weekend can now be sustained and compounded by an unreturned message or a group chat that visibly continues without you.

 

Boundaries around screens matter. Sleep hygiene matters. But the question worth sitting with — honestly — is this: why are you avoiding setting a particular boundary? What is the story you are telling yourself about what will happen if you do? Are you avoiding conflict? Are you worried about being unpopular with your own child? Is there something in your own relationship with technology that makes this difficult?

 

Creating boundaries is not about control. It is about care. And being honest with ourselves about our own discomfort is often the first step toward being able to hold a boundary with both warmth and conviction.

Letting Go — A Little at a Time

There is something quietly demanding about the parenting of adolescents that does not always get named. It is the experience of being needed differently. Of stepping back when every instinct says step forward. Of watching someone you love navigate something painful and knowing that your job, in this moment, is to stay close without intervening.

 

Adolescence asks young people to find themselves. And it asks the adults who love them to hold that process — to provide the secure base from which they can explore, and to which they can return when things go wrong.

 

Friendships are where so much of that exploration happens. They are the place where young people learn who they are, what they value, how to love and be loved, how to hurt and be hurt and find their way back. The support we offer them through that process — curious, warm, boundaried, honest — is not incidental to their development. It is at the very centre of it.

Your child does not need you to fix their friendships. They need you to believe that they can  navigate them. And that you will be there — steady, present, not going anywhere — when the glitter needs a little longer to settle.

Hannah Abrahams
Educational and Child Psychologist