The narrative I’ve been telling myself lately is that I don’t have enough friends near where I live, or ones I can really talk to. That I need to get out more. The reason I’ve been feeling down is that I don't have a community I can lean on.
It doesn’t matter whether these statements are true or not. What matters is that I’m starting to believe these voices in my head. So much so I’m beginning to think there’s something wrong with me. And that’s why I don’t have enough friends or meaningful relationships.
When I first moved to the US all I wanted to do was make “mom friends.” You know, the ones that got what it was like to be the primary caretaker and the joys and struggles of being a parent. I had nobody I could talk to for advice on what to do when my son was teething or how to train him to sleep on his own. You know, the super important stuff that helps a mom keep sane while helping to not screw up your kid’s life.
I sought out Facebook groups and asked my husband if any of his coworkers were moms. In my mind, the shared affinity of being a mom meant we’d all bond right away and share our deepest darkest secrets.
A few months into moving to another state, I was finally able to meet up with a local moms group. The talk was mostly surface level, and none of us really wanted to admit that sometimes we didn’t like being around our children. I was frustrated at the lack of honesty I was desperately craving. Sure, the advice offered at times was useful, but I couldn’t help but feel something else was off.
A conversation centered around hot pot and Korean BBQ and why they’re not the same. I vowed never to meet up with these moms again.
For the past seven or so years, I’ve been going to the same work conference. Sure, I met editors, but what was the most surprising to me was the different friends I’ve made from flying to different parts of the US each year. Most of them live in different states, but we’ve managed to keep in touch with each other through the usual messaging apps.
A handful turned out to be some of the closest relationships I’ve made in a long time. We’ve shared life struggles. A divorce. Childcare woes. Aging parents and wondering how we’d care for them financially. Pregnancy and postpartum depression challenges. Burnout.
Then there were other friendships I cherished just as equally, where we’d only talk about work. What clients we have, and how to write more efficiently. Navigating all the different style guides from different publications.
It was enough for me to still feel a close connection to them.
Not sure how I stumbled upon this while scrolling on Instagram but I found a post about a local book club that recently started. There it is: the answer to finding local friends. Surely, I’ll click with someone right away and we’ll be BFFs foreva!
Each time there were different people showing up (though many of the same ones did as well) but I’d leave feeling happy. We’d discuss the book we were supposed to read (I didn’t in most months, opps). Or what books we wanted to read next and buy. Or fun music we’d listen to. No deep conversations here.
There were several that I’ve met at the book club but have since met outside of the book club. They’re lovely, and I’m so glad to have deeper conversations with them. Does it mean that the only reason the book club was valuable was because I made deeper relationships?
Of course not.
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I’ve been asking the wrong question the whole time about whether I had enough friends. It’s more, what kinds of friendships do I need more of at this given time? Or, what ways do I really need to feel that sense of connection?
It’s possible to give and receive on a more surface level like sharing your love of the same author, or finding someone to vent about your frustrations to when you’re smack dab in the middle of negotiating a contract.
The question of why I feel like I need more deep friends and those types of connections in my life is an interesting one, and one that I don’t have the answer to just yet. What I do know is that going out there, meeting people and being curious about what happens is part of the magic.
Such a good question. I’ve moved quite a bit, lived in different countries and have friends from university and travels all over the world. I know many people but only consider a handful my true closest friends. I’m happy that way. And I still try meet new people wherever I live. Sometimes closer bonds form in addition to older ones slowly fainting away.
Adult friendships are an art in itself I feel.
Hello! I’m so glad I stumbled about this piece, Sarah.
This is a question that, for some reason, isn’t really talked about enough, like there’s some sort of stigma about it.
I’m not sure if it’s because of my introverted tendencies, but I see most of my friends in a one-to-one or small group setting, all of us going through our own stages of life in staggered ways (and we observe our friends doing it and vice versa) and I’ve been wondering if I’m missing a community aspect of it all where a group of friends are doing the same thing at the same time. I do think about this quite a lot, but voice it out much less often. Thank you for your essay, which speaks directly to these deep-seated thoughts of mine :)