I remember the first time I experienced the concept of intentionality.

It was August 2011, and my best friend Courtney and I were at the Ice Arena for Illini Life’s annual broomball event. We didn’t know anyone; we were curious freshmen desperately searching for community.

We met Heather over a bowl of pretzels. She was a senior at the time, effervescent and endlessly passionate about I-Life. Three minutes into our conversation, Heather started asking us all about our hometown, our families and our faith journeys.

And the crazy thing was, Heather cared about what we told her. Her gray-blue eyes were brimming with interest as she nodded along, listening to us share a slice of our lives.

I’ve since realized how rare it is to find intentionality like that. In simplest terms, the word “intentional” means doing something on purpose, with thought or planning or design. In our self-obsessed culture, most people don’t function that way, especially in friendships. Instead, we prefer to glorify ourselves, seeking recognition and praise.

But being intentional requires humility. An intentional friend is someone who asks the hard questions. Follows up. Cares deeply. Stays accountable.

Months ago, that wasn’t me. I was completely wrapped up in myself, hardly cultivating my relationships — relationships that I took for granted. I put relatively no effort into checking up on and treasuring my friends, and when someone tried to talk to me, I seldom revealed my flaws.

It was as if I had been wearing a mask, unable to reveal my true self for fear of rejection. I could barely be vulnerable with my very best friends, the ones I’ve known for years. Then, when it came to my new relationships on campus, I held back. My mask stayed on, and I stuffed the real Melanie far, far down, until I completely lost sight of her.

I spent most of the past fall semester at home (stay tuned for more on that) and found myself evaluating the type of friend I was. How could I put others first? How could I get to know new people on a more intimate level instead of hiding in the shallow stages of relationships? How could I really, truly be a friend?

When I first came home in September, I was overcome by the love and undying support from the people in my life. There were snail-mail letters, there were texts, there were emails, there were phone calls. Even from afar, my friends were insanely intentional with me. They reassured me and encouraged me, building me back up.

And slowly, I started reciprocating.

The idea of intentionality has become huge for me. After everything that happened last semester, I’ve realized just how blessed I am to have these people in my life. What’s more, I am now wholeheartedly seeking intentionality in those friendships and any new ones that will inevitably come my way.

I want to challenge this campus to deepen our friendships. I believe that this life we have been given is short, and while we’re here, we need to invest in our friends’ lives. We should be talking about stuff that matters and asking the questions that no one wants to ask: How are you, really? What have you been struggling with? What are you worried about? How can I be there for you?

There are certainly times when I love random conversations, dripping with sarcasm and full of laughter. But, more than that, I love going beyond the surface and learning more about people. This campus is full of unique personalities: 43,000 students, 3,000 faculty members, 3,700 professional staffers and 4,000 support staffers.

Those are some overwhelming statistics, numbers that remind me of the potential friendships we miss out on when we focus too much on ourselves. Imagine the effects of intentionality on this campus — if we let our guards down and asked someone about his or her life. 

We all have a story. We all have anxieties and thoughts and hopes and dreams.

Why don’t we start sharing?

Melanie is a sophomore in Media. She can be reached at [email protected].