Image via Friends/Warner Bros.
I just moved across the country to a place where I didn’t know a soul, and I’m shy and awkward and would rather devour a 500 page book in four days than go to a bar or a party or cafe and strike up a conversation with a (probably very nice and willing to chat) stranger.
Maybe that makes me highly qualified—I’m not really sure.
Either way, the whole concept of meeting people out in the real world has been pretty all-consuming lately.
Now, for the most part, I’m comfortable (most comfortable, in fact) being alone. Still, loneliness happens. And when loneliness happens, we look for validation.
So, tonight I sent a text to my four best friends and told them I missed them. Then I spent a few minutes having a pity party and decided I would text a few other people to invite them to this little shin-dig and let them know all about my sadness and shyness and insecurities. (Post continues after gallery)
But, while I was scrolling though my inbox looking for just the right person to make me feel better about myself, I started thinking about those four best friends I texted a few minutes before and something dawned on me:
They were strangers once, too.
We didn’t go to kindergarten together, or meet because our moms were best friends, and we didn’t have gym class together in middle school. We met in college, as perfect strangers.
Up until now, I had been using the fact that this wasn’t college as an excuse for why making friends has been so hard: people don’t hang out with their doors open and walk up and down hallways asking where you’re from and what you’re doing tonight in the apartment building I live in (which, when I really stop to think about it, is for the best).
But, on my quest for virtual validation this evening, I realised that it’s not a lack of people to befriend that’s the issue for most of us.