I Finally Have the Friends I Always Wanted — And This Is How I Got Them
I never really had a lot of friends.
I was often left out of social events, and I was never the most popular person in the room. I wasn’t really part of any long-lasting friend group either. Temporary lunch groups, study groups, hobby groups, sure — but never the close-knit, enduring friendships I always sought to have.
So, I was lonely.
And this loneliness manifested itself in every aspect of my life.
My personality — I was shy, reclusive, and socially anxious. My daily activities — I spent my time secluded and invisible. My mental health — I was dejected, feeling so distanced from everyone else around me.
Now, years and years later, I have the kinds of friendships I always wanted — ones that are close, secure, enduring, and above all else, genuine. I always have someone to talk to, and someone to laugh with. I can be honest and vulnerable with everyone, and share my deepest concerns and secrets.
So, how did all this happen? How did I get here?
The truth is, I made the important decision to change certain priorities.
Authenticity over insecurity.
I used to hide away a large portion of my personality.
Instead of showing the charisma and sociability I have since been complimented on, I went for a more palatable impression: inconspicuous, quiet, and reserved. I wanted to protect myself from potential rejection, to convince myself that being alone was fine as long as it came from a lack of effort.
One day, I changed my mind. Suppressing that part of me went against my most deeply-rooted value since childhood. To always be myself, thoroughly and genuinely, and to be courageous enough to show it to the world.
Upon this shift in behavior, I immediately noticed a difference.
Peers started talking to me. Associates and strangers complimented my sense of humor and style. I did not become popular — I never was — but I became me. And in social settings, where most others tried to disguise themselves, my courage and authenticity showed through.
It was true, this thing that I once shared with an acquaintance: “Some people might not care for my peculiarities, but the right people find them charming — and in the end, they are the ones who really matter.”
Action over passivity.
Taking action changed the social game completely.
When I started my job as a shop assistant, I had two options. One, present myself as I usually did, as shy and unassuming but overall kind and dutiful. Or two, present myself the way I wanted to, as a socially and vocationally competent person who could effortlessly talk and crack jokes with anyone.
I chose the second option — and it made all the difference.
By taking an active stance in the development of my relationships with peers and strangers, I took initiative. I chose to become the person I knew I wanted to be at heart — and as a result, I created situations that spurred others to express genuine interest in me. I established tens of connections and received hundreds of laughs at work, by simply being brave and true to my desires.
I chose to be a more active agent of my social life, and for that, I reaped its rewards.
Intimacy over superficiality.
Friendships are better counted in quality than quantity.
I do not have a lot of friends myself — not in comparison to those around me. But the friends that I do have are one-of-a-kind. Irreplicable and safe.
In some way, my connections are so genuine and close, precisely because of the type of interactions we established early on. I have always been intrigued by the potential of bonds founded on honesty and vulnerability, and I have found that a mutual interest in this has led to deeper, more fulfilling relationships than ones based on surface-level commonalities or observations.
Indeed, the superficial connections I used to make with my peers — with talks about weather and lectures and social media — cannot compare to the intimacy, connection, and closeness of my current friendships. With my friends, conversations were never like those talks, not even in the beginning. We both sought out a particular sense of connection that small talk couldn’t provide, and we engaged in discussions that led to greater understanding and wisdom.
I used to think that being well-liked or having a large friend group was the solution to loneliness. Instead, I found that the answer is close connection — a superior sense of belonging — even when it is just with a few people.
Energy over depletion.
In tandem with this, something so strangely named as the Vampire Test saved my social life.
In Steal Like An Artist, author Austin Kleon claims that if a person leaves you feeling drained, they are like an energy-sucking vampire — one whose company is unfulfilling or has a negative impact on you. Unlike people who leave you energized or content, these so-called vampires are individuals that might not be worth your time. (Speaking of which, there are also other ways you can decide whom you should spend less or more time with.)
With this test, I learned to distinguish between the meaningful and lackluster relationships in my life. Instead of feeling down all the time due to only half of my friendships being personally and socially fulfilling, I now have a higher-quality — albeit smaller — collection of friends in my network. When I spend time with my current friends, I feel energized, inspired, and happy — and even the lowest-level interactions with them has meaning.
The Vampire Test does not magically give you more friends, but it helps you differentiate between those who should stick and those who should go.
Honesty over people-pleasing.
So many people waste their time trying to be liked.
I did too. I tried to force connections in superficial interactions. I tried to meet others’ expectations and desires to avoid that painful sense of failure and aloneness.
It was only when I stopped striving, that things changed. I quickly expelled myself from relationships that did not interest me, from people whose company I would rather avoid. As a compromise — a short-term loss for a long-term gain — I settled for the few connections I actually wanted to spend time on, in the sea of potential friendships.
With time, I also learned to be direct with people. To place boundaries with them, so as to spend my time and energy more wisely. And to say “no” to people and social events that disinterested me, or went against my values and principles.
And once again, those who understood and respected these things, were the real keepers anyway.
Loneliness, of course, is never simple.
It is a complex feeling accompanied by even more complex thoughts and experiences. But sometimes, the most complex problems have the simplest solutions.
- Be yourself
- Take initiative
- Seek connection, not connections
- Spend time with the right people
- Be honest
None of these actions are easy, by any means. They necessitate courage, commitment, and vulnerability. But they do work.
And for me, these things provided a social life I previously thought unattainable.
