the fear of making new friends...

when you still owe your old friend a lunch date from 5 weeks ago

photo of nu by @theraw.effect

Act 1: Innate vs Forced Introversion

4 years ago, when I was living in a friend-who-was-more-like-a-mentor-to-me’s apartment in NYC, I was finishing my sophomore year of college on Zoom University. It was during this required time of isolation that I learned:

I am an introvert.

As long as I could Facetime my friends and Whatsapp my family, I was pretty okay with living alone. In fact, when things started opening back up and there was this push for a return back to “normalcy” - whatever that is - I was still really uneasy about going out to eat at restaurants. No lie, I’m such a germaphobe, I started cleaning my eating utensils with hand sanitizer when eating out.

So, when friends wanted to start hanging out outside again, I’d invite them over to my apartment instead (which I was sharing with 3 pals from college at this point in the pandemic). “I’ll cook for us,” I’d say. “We’ll save more money this way.” And nobody was arguing with that. 

Ahhh, those were the days. 

screenshot from @t.willy2 reel

Act 2: Planning a Date, Kinda Nervous
Now, I am almost 1 year post-grad – most of my friends are 2 years post-grad – and adulting (read as the jobs we toil and labor at for unlivable wages) has demanded that we plan our hangouts 4 weeks in advance… as a formality.

“What days – a month from now – would you be free?”

“Can I let you know in 30 business days when we can catch up at a cafe or something?”

“Yes, sorry friend, 30 business days and oh, terms and conditions (read as mental, physical, emotional, spiritual health) apply.”

This is just the planning stage. Which also takes a couple days to maybe a week to plan because texts are buried under each other. Let’s not talking about finally meeting up and the cafe is packed or having to wait 2 hours for indoor seating to open up. *screams inaudibly with frustration while clutching head*

After answering emails all day, all I want is to touch some grass, but then I finally remember as my brain cells start buzzing again that I haven’t texted my pal back. (we’re back to the planning stage now.) Tell me why as I go to search their name, Starface sends me a marketing text: “hey bff! We’re having 10% off our —”

I simply throw my phone. Because…why have I allowed an adorable acne patch skincare brand to have this much access? It was one thing when the distractions were limited to an email I could ignore, but now the ads are incessant. Every other post on TikTok is an ad for a TikTok shop handbag. Every other Instagram story is an ad for the kitten heels and lace bolero I told my friend I wanted the other day.

Anywhere I/you/we look, scroll, breathe there’s another thing vying for our attention. Another distraction. Another thing pulling I/you/we away from what really grounds us in our sense of aliveness – connection.

Act 3: Struggling to Keep (Eye) Contact

Despite my very busy work life. Despite the unrelenting ad monsters I’m sure we’re all battling whenever we lay a finger on our smart devices, I made a resolution this new year to be a better friend. And I have to start being a better friend to the ones I’ve had for years (and see myself growing with for years to come). 

Another thing I learned while living alone, but am just now finding the words to name is: I am terrible at being vulnerable with others. I can hold space for others to be vulnerable with me, but I have not always trusted that folks can hold space for me in my vulnerability. We won’t get into the why/psychoanalysis of that in this essay, but the repercussions of having withheld my vulnerability with certain friends, has resulted in me feeling like a lot of my years-old friendships (that have survived up until this point) are still in their early stages. I have friends I’ve known for 5+ years, but to me, we’re just now getting close because I’m just now starting to open up to them, honestly and vulnerably. 

art by Harmonia Rosales. words by Gendersauce.

These friends are not to be confused with friends that are no longer in my life. I’ve had friends who I’ve tried to be honest and vulnerable with, and I’ve learned that everyone is not ready for me to be that kind of friend to them. I’m learning that conflict is a science in consent. A science I am still learning to navigate and will admit, I am not the best at captaining. But because conflict is holy, I am committed to working through conflicts with friends that are also committed to holding space for me with patient grace, nuanced politic, and understanding. 

Entering this new (astrological) year, I’m not in a space in my life where I can prioritize new friendships and connections – especially ones that are not in purposeful alignment with my developing present and future. I don’t want this admittance to come off in a “people-disposing” way.
This admittance is rooted in:
(1) the understanding of how overstimulated my psyche is – as someone who lives in one of the most densely populated cities in the world – by the constant meeting, interaction, and socializing I do on a daily basis.
(2) a boundary that is teaching me to be honest about my capacity (to self and others).
(3) an acknowledgement that community must be built (with bricks not sticks), then nurtured (reinforced through mutual care + vulnerability), in order to withstand the tests, trials, tribulation of time (conflicts, disagreements, the like). 

Also, when I say I’m not in a space in my current adult life to prioritize new friendships, I’m not saying I’m not open to connecting with people. I believe connecting is a different level of relational work than committing to people. 

Friendships, to me, are as much about commitment as they are connection. Unfortunately, we only think about romantic relationships in a commitment kinda way. But we ought to be more committed to our friends. We should prioritize dates with friends, checking in on our friends, and really spending that quality time with our beloved qts. If we’re friends, we locked in. We’re about the connection AND the commitment. 

I am worried someone might read this and feel like they shouldn’t bother trying to befriend me. And to themfolks I say these last few things: 

I’m a pisces rising. Upon first interactions, I'm a very friendly and empathetic person. I would say I’m good (sometimes too good) at holding space for others. I act too often as a container, when I too, need a place to pour out. Because I’m an introvert, I need LOTSSS of alone time to tether back to my body and regulate my easily overstimulated and dysregulated nervous system. Please don’t take it personally if we’ve recently met and/or you’ve asked to hang out and I don’t reply to you for months. It’s really not personal. Adulting (read as my life that I’m struggling to live despite working every minute of each breath-stealing hour) has allowed me very little time and capacity for friends I’m not already committed to and seeing consistently. Full of hope and care for you, I’d love to continue connecting through the internet for now. I hope you’ll understand. My wallet hopes you’ll understand too. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

If you’ve made it this far – new friends, old friends, soon-to-be friends and stranger-friends – feel free to share this very personal but hopefully relatable essay with a pal or five. It really helps me sustain this work. Become a paid subscriber if you can, you’ll get a special typewritten poem every season (quarterly) if you do. And if you can’t, feel free to share, like, restack —it all helps a WHOLE lot.

until the next fresh ‘stack, courageously yours,

nu🧚🏿‍♀️