Where Are All My Friends?! (No, Seriously.)
Making friends as an adult is... weird. Like, when did it get so complicated? As kids, we bonded over snack trades and recess drama. In college, friendships formed by proximity—if you lived on my floor and hated the same professor, boom, we were besties. But now? Now it’s a mix of awkward small talk, scheduling between nap times or meetings, and wondering if you’re coming off desperate when you say, “Wanna grab lunch and go to Target?”
I’m in this season where I crave connection—but I’m also chronically overbooked and overstimulated. Between work, trying to stay on top of life, and keeping myself from spiraling into a permanent doom scroll, friendship always ends up on the “someday soon” list. But the truth is, I miss it.
And let’s just say it—making friends as an adult is hard, awkward, and honestly kind of humiliating. You’re constantly walking the line between “I want to hang out with you” and “I swear I’m not trying to be in a weird girl crush situationship.” It always feels one-sided. Like I’m putting myself out there with that “we should totally hang out” text... only to hear nothing back but crickets and a rogue “like” on my Insta story three days later.
Also, I’m stuck in this weird life stage. A lot of the people I used to be close with are still living that spontaneous, no-strings-attached, go-out-on-a-Tuesday life. And I’m over here managing a calendar, a career, a family, and my energy like it’s a limited-edition resource. Meanwhile, the new friends I meet are either in totally different phases of life or... have kids who could lowkey babysit me.
It’s like, are we vibing—or am I hanging out with someone’s mom? (No offense to moms. I am a mom. Moms are icons. It’s just... I don’t know where I fit.)
I used to think I was the problem. Not cool enough, not fun enough, not something enough. But I’ve realized most women feel the same—lonely, unsure, lowkey begging the universe to give them one solid, ride-or-die friend who doesn’t flake or make everything a networking opportunity.
(Okay, tbh, I have this ride-or-die friend… but she decided to live across the country, so that’s rude.)
So I stopped waiting and started showing up. I sent the texts. I planned the hangouts, even if they were casual AF. I showed up even when I felt awkward or insecure. I didn’t overthink the invite (okay I did, I’m a toxic overthinker), and I didn’t cancel just because I felt tired (okay, sometimes I still do that—but I try). And little by little, I started building real friendships again. Yes, that’s plural… but it really means like, two people. Lol.
So if you're in your where-are-my-friends era, welcome. It’s not just you. Adult friendship is weird. It’s clunky. And it’s way harder than anyone talks about. But it’s not impossible. It just takes a little bravery and a lot of, “Hey, I actually meant it when I said we should go to Target sometime.”
xo,
Kate
