The Brightest Stars

I fell asleep on the couch watching YouTube. That happens a lot at the end of my day.

When I woke up, I was slowly figuring out what time it was and the video of Jimmy Kimmel’s monologue was just starting. I had heard that his bandleader had passed away, but I didn’t know anything else. So I stayed there – wide awake now – and watched.

For 20 minutes, Jimmy told stories about Cleto. Some funny, some embarrassing, some so personal you felt like maybe you shouldn’t be watching. But you couldn’t look away.

Because what Jimmy was really showing us wasn’t just grief.

He was crying. His voice kept cracking. He had to stop mid-sentence sometimes because the weight of what he was saying was too much. And he didn’t apologize for any of it.

He was showing us emotional honesty between men. The kind where you don’t perform strength or keep it together for the cameras. The kind where 47 years of friendship gives you permission to just… feel.

And with Friendsgiving coming up this week, I can’t stop thinking about it.

What Friendsgiving Is Really About

Friendsgiving happens this week for a lot of people. It’s usually framed as the “fun” Thanksgiving – less pressure, more casual, better wine, friends instead of family drama.

But after watching Jimmy, I think we’ve been looking at it wrong.

Friendsgiving isn’t just about gathering with people you like better than your relatives. It’s about honoring the friendships where you can actually be yourself. Where you don’t have to manage how you come across or edit what you say.

The friends who know the real you – not the polished version.

Jimmy and Cleto met when they were kids on the same Las Vegas block. They became inseparable. They grew up together, worked together, built their families side by side. And when Cleto died, Jimmy didn’t just lose a bandleader or a coworker.

He lost the person who had been at his side for 47 years. The person who knew him before he was Jimmy Kimmel. The person who never once felt jealous when their roles reversed and Jimmy became the star.

That’s the kind of bond Friendsgiving was invented to celebrate.

What Makes a Friendship Go That Deep

So what creates that kind of bond? The kind where you can be completely yourself without apology?

Time matters. But not just time passing – time spent. Time invested. Time showing up even when it’s ordinary. Not just the highlight reel moments, but the Tuesday nights that turn into decades.

Being seen matters. Having someone who gets your weird sense of humor, knows why you do the things you do, and doesn’t try to change you into someone easier to understand.

Zero competition matters. When roles shift and life changes and success looks different for each of you, there’s no resentment. No jealousy. Just genuine pride in each other’s wins. That’s rare. Especially between men.

Vulnerability matters. The willingness to look foolish, admit when you’re wrong, cry when it hurts. No performance required.

Deep friendships aren’t built on perfection. They’re built on showing up as you are – messy, flawed, real – and being met with acceptance instead of judgment.

Friends Giving All Year Long

This Friendsgiving, I’m thinking about the friends who’ve given me permission to be real. The ones who show up. Who know me well enough that we don’t have to explain everything. Who I can call at 2 AM or not talk to for three months, and it doesn’t matter – we just pick up where we left off.

And I’m realizing: Friendsgiving doesn’t have to be just the end of November.

Maybe it’s reaching out on a random Tuesday. Maybe it’s showing up when things get hard. Maybe it’s a text that says “Remember that ridiculous thing we did 20 years ago?” for no reason at all.

Friendsgiving isn’t about the meal. It’s about not taking the people who matter for granted. It’s about telling them they matter – not just once a year, but when you think of it.

Because life is short. And fragile. And we don’t get unlimited time.

Like Jimmy said: “Cherish your friends. We’re not here forever.”

Don’t wait for a holiday. Don’t wait for the perfect moment. Don’t assume they already know.

For the brightest stars in your universe – the ones who light up your ordinary days – let them know how glad you are to live in a world where they exist.

We have so much to be thankful for.

XO