In praise of... new friendships
An ode to finding your people in a world that often isolates us.
When my 7-year-old son plays with someone new at school, either he or the other child will inevitably ask “do you want to be my friend”? Assuming they do, it’s a done deal - and over the following months, playdates and party invites often follow.
Somewhere along the way to becoming adults, we lose this ease and openness to new connections. Building a friendship is often a complicated, nuanced dance: no one wants to appear too keen, obviously lonely, or - god forbid - desperate.
Asking bluntly “do you want to be my friend?” feels, at the very least, socially inept. Unlike romantic relationships, with their myriad of labels, we often don’t have the language to describe getting to know someone platonically. Even though I’m pretty sure situationships exist in the realm of friendship too.
So what’s a lonely girl to do?
As time passes, life changes shape. Moving to a new city, going on parental leave, or experiencing a break-up (to name just three) can all result in a need for new friendships. Or maybe a former close friend has departed from your life - something that can be as painful as a romantic rupture.
A lot has been written recently about the pain that arises when one person is more invested in an existing friendship than another – especially this moving piece by Alex Elle. Which makes forming new relationships even more precious.
A year or two ago, this would have been a very different article - about the soul-crushing loneliness I felt in the wake of my separation from my ex-husband and the failure of my once-closest friends to support me through it.
Discussing the deep hurt I felt with my therapist, I vividly remember telling her, “I can’t afford to lose another friend”. In other words: I have to hold on to this relationship that leaves me feeling like I don’t matter - because these crumbs of connection are preferable to being completely alone.
Over time I have come to realise that, much as with romantic partnerships, when we cling to a friendship that is no longer serving us, it can prevent us from building new ones – with people who feel as lucky to have us in their life, as we do them.
Starting in late 2023 after my divorce, I decided to prioritise friendships, even ones in their very early stages, that felt reciprocal - and to “put myself out there” platonically, over and OVER again - suggesting coffees, gym dates, drinks, visits to cultural happenings – you name it.
Believe me, it wasn’t easy – I had to fight feelings of neediness, dealt with polite excuses and flat-out being ignored, and met up with people I turned out to have no chemistry with whatsoever. The parallels with dating were more than clear.
Several times, I attended events on my own, rather than miss out. In the idealised version of this story, I encountered my future bestie as we bonded over our shared passion for art, cookery, or human rights. In reality, I often took up to half an hour to find the courage to walk into a venue by myself – and talked to precisely no one.
If you experience this – don’t give up (this is a note to self, as much as it is advice to anyone reading – progress is not linear).
In summer 2024, I suddenly realised my persistent efforts had borne fruit, and I had many more people in my life than before - people who I feel like and appreciate me. People who I can call on when I need support (and who have showed up, both practically and emotionally, in all manner of ways in the past year). People who I now tentatively, hopefully, call friends.
I felt like the energy I had been putting out into the universe was starting to come back to me. Especially when people began taking the initiative to get in touch, rather than the other way around.
A highlight was an old colleague who reached out to me on Instagram, ending her message: “I’d love to reconnect.”
I wrote back. I hadn’t seen this person since pre-pandemic days, when we occasionally got together for lunch in the office canteen. Over the following months, we met several times: for brunch; to cook together; for bubble tea on a Sunday afternoon. Slowly, a new friendship began to form.
Because all of this takes time - the familiarity, the history, the shared experiences that we have with old friends simply are not present with someone new.
As Aaron Edwards writes in this excellent Slate article, “Doing things isn’t enough. Taking action isn’t enough. Time has to pass—and you need to be patient.”
Like any new relationship, there are no short cuts to forming a deep friendship bond, and not everyone is your platonic soulmate.
Some people are destined to become keepers of your secrets. Others, occasional coffee date buddies. Others, enemies (just kidding). Ultimately, building connection with people who see you and appreciate you as you are is a true blessing. And I am grateful to every new person who has come into my life, in big or small ways, in the past two years.
When was the last time you made a new friend? I would love to hear about your experiences with adult friendship, it’s not as easy as when we were kids…
