Wanna by my friend?

In my mid-twenties, after having recently moved to Portland without knowing anyone there, I accepted an invitation from one of my then yoga students to have tea with her. It was a welcome invitation because it just felt good to sit and talk with someone, and she was very warm and funny and interesting.


After hanging out a few times, she invited another friend of hers to join us for dinner. Over the course of the evening, I found that I kept wanting to ask this new woman questions. I felt an affinity toward her. We both had worked in wilderness therapy. We both grew up on the east coast and agreed that we didn’t quite fit in yet with west coasters.


The next day I called my friend who had set up the dinner and asked if I could get the other woman’s number so I could maybe hang out with her again. My friend shared it, happy that her instincts about us getting along had been right.


But then I sat on the number for days and days. I was embarrassed. What was I gonna do, call her up (texting wasn’t really a thing yet) and say, “I like you, do you wanna be my friend?”


I felt ridiculous about how nervous I was about it. It felt like asking a potential romantic partner on a date and risking getting rejected. I finally forced myself to call her number and told her I enjoyed meeting her and asked if she wanted to go on a hike with me.


Eight years later, in the last week before I left Portland to move to Ojai where I also didn’t know anyone, an acquaintance of mine told me that she knew someone else who had just moved to Ojai. She gave me her number and told me to reach out to her. “She’s an amazing woman, you’ll love her!” she assured me.


When I got home, sitting amongst my moving boxes, I googled the new woman’s name and checked out her website. She was clearly smart and gorgeous and her business was a lot more put together than mine. I immediately felt so intimidated that I decided I wouldn’t reach out to her.


Months and months later, our mutual acquaintance texted me to see if I'd reached out to the woman. I told her no, and that, to be honest, I’d been intimidated. It took getting a swift kick in the pants from her to finally muster up the courage to reach out to the woman in my new town.


Both of those women are now two of my closest and oldest friends. And in our first meetings (and many times since then), we laughed at how we both felt like we were asking a person we liked out on a date and we both felt too intimidated to reach out to the other person. Because in each case, our mutual friend had given both of us the other’s contact info and we’d had the exact same insecurities.


I share this because the difficulty of meeting new people or making new friends as a grown up is a topic that comes up with many of my clients.


Yes, it does seem harder to make friends once you’re no longer in school, and especially once you’re part of a committed couple, or busy raising children or full-steam ahead in a career (or all of the above).


But I think what makes it harder is that we assume meeting new people should just happen naturally, and that making new friends shouldn’t require awkward moments like taking the first step and saying, “Hey, wanna be my friend?”


But you DO have to put yourself out there, and it will mostly likely feel awkward and vulnerable. And that’s just how it is.


Because either you do put yourself out there and try to make new friends and you maybe do, or you don’t put yourself out there and you almost positively won’t.


So…


Been thinking about trying pickle ball? Take a group lesson.


Are you a new mom? Join a mommy and me class.


Tired of going on runs alone? Join a meet up group.


Feel like you never have any plans? Ask an existing friend to bring you as a plus-one to a BBQ they’re invited to.

Work alone and feel like you don't know anyone in your industry? Attend a conference.


Do these ideas seem lame and make you feel like you’re a junior high student? Maybe!


But this is par for the course.


There’s nothing wrong with you or weird about you because you have to take what seems like an unnatural step to put yourself in a situation where you could naturally make a connection with someone new who could turn into that true blue, long-term friend.


Or at the very least, someone you could have coffee with every once in a while. Because who knows who they might introduce you to.

So if you’re in the boat where you know you’re lacking some valuable, real connections with friends, embrace your inner junior high student and make a plan to meet some new people in real life.

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owen keturah