Support Systems through a Sitcom
What Friends (Yes, the TV Show) Taught Me About Support Systems
You know that scene where Ross is yelling “PIVOT!” while trying to move a couch up a narrow New York staircase to save money on the delivery fee? That’s how I’ve felt trying to navigate life with chronic illness and mental health challenges. Except I’m the couch. And also Ross. And sometimes I’m yelling at myself.
It’s weird how a ‘90s sitcom (airing 6 years before I was even born) with laugh tracks and definitely at times questionable fashion choices ended up teaching me more about support systems than half the many, many self-help books I’ve read.
But here we are.
I used to watch Friends thinking it was just about coffee and chaos. And maybe it was (at times). But underneath the punchlines and the romantic plot twists, was something else: a deep, unwavering presence.
A kind of chosen family that showed up, not always perfectly, but consistently.
And isn’t that the heart of a real support system?
“I’ll be there for you...” – like, really.
What Friends gets right is that support doesn’t have to mean saving someone. It's not about fixing their problems or always knowing what to say. Sometimes it’s just sitting in silence, or turning up with food, or reminding someone they’re not crazy when life feels like it’s spiralling.
That’s what Monica does when Chandler spirals. It’s what Joey does when Phoebe needs a friend to believe in her weirdness. It’s what Rachel learns to do over all 10 seasons - how to show up for people even when she’s figuring her own life out.
We all need a Central Perk.
For me, support looks like voice messages and texts from friends who don’t flinch when I say “I’m not doing great today.” It’s my chosen family who know when I need a distraction, and when I need to fall apart. It’s people who remind me of who I am on days when illness, depression, or ADHD make me forget.
We don’t all have an actual Central Perk to meet at every morning (though I wouldn’t say no to an espresso machine and a giant orange couch), but we can still build our version of it. Even if it’s a group chat. Even if it’s two people. Even if it’s just one.
Because support systems don’t have to be big. They just have to be real and full of heart.
Support systems aren’t made. They’re chosen.
Here’s what I’ve learned the hard way: blood isn’t always thicker than boundaries. Sometimes the people who support you best aren’t the ones you grew up with. They’re the ones who saw the mess and didn’t run.
A good support system is made of people who:
Check in, even when they don’t know what to say
Celebrate the small wins (like getting out of bed)
Know when to listen and when to distract you with memes
Don’t need you to be okay to still love you
And sometimes, it includes fictional friends from TV and books who remind you that through all their mistakes and missteps, love is in the showing up.
So what now?
If you’re feeling like you don’t have that yet, that’s okay. It’s not too late to build it. Start small. Let people in. Be someone else’s Central Perk when you can. And maybe rewatch a few episodes of Friends - because under all that canned laughter, there’s some real wisdom.
Remember: community isn’t a luxury. It’s a necessity. You’re not meant to do this alone.
Your people are out there. Pivot toward them.
~Sam🌿