It’s not that I hate people—after all, hate is a very strong word. Or that I’ve given up on connection. It’s just that somewhere along the way, I stopped trying to make friends—and honestly, I don’t really miss the effort.
Don’t get me wrong. I have friends. Some old, some new-ish. Some I see once a year, others I text every day. But the active pursuit of friendship? The meet-ups with strangers, the hopeful small talk, the energy it takes to build something from scratch—I just don’t have it in me anymore.
Friendship used to be effortless.
In college, in our 20s, even in early parenting years—friendships happened naturally. You were thrown together in dorms, classrooms, playgroups, or office break rooms. You were in the same life stage, asking the same questions, needing the same things.
But now? My days are full. My bandwidth is low. And frankly, my tolerance for surface-level relationships has vanished.
I’ve learned I’m not for everyone—and that’s okay.
I don’t want to have to water myself down just to be palatable. I don’t want to force laughter or pretend to be into things I’m not. I’m okay with awkward silences. I’m okay with saying no. And that doesn’t always translate into fast friendships.
I’ve also realized that many adult friendships require too much pretending. Pretending I’m less tired than I am. Pretending I want to go out when I’d rather stay home. Pretending I don’t mind when someone is chronically late or never really listens.
I used to think this was cynical. Now I think it’s just honest.
Friendship takes time, and I don’t give mine away easily anymore.
I’m protective of my time now—not because I’m so busy, but because I’ve learned how valuable it is. I want to spend it with people who feel like a warm blanket, not an obligation.
I want the kind of friendships where we can go months without talking and pick right back up. Where no one keeps score. Where I don’t have to explain why I disappeared for a bit. The kind that doesn’t need effort, because it’s built on ease.
I’ve stopped trying to make friends. But I’m always open to finding one.
I think there’s a difference.
I’m not going to go out of my way to build a brand-new friendship from scratch. But if one grows slowly, naturally, and without pressure—I’ll welcome it. I’m just not in the market for performative connection.
So, no, I don’t try to make friends anymore. But if you’re someone who gets it—someone who loves deep conversations, doesn’t need constant validation, and can sit in silence without it being weird—we can be friends. Quietly. Casually. Comfortably.
Because that’s the kind of friendship I still believe in.