I left the UK to move abroad in early 2020, leaving behind (geographically speaking) the close friendships I had made in my formative years. Now, in my 30s, I am struggling to convert casual acquaintances into meaningful friendships. I work from home and I live alone, so to compensate I attend various social events and regular activities. I have met people I like and who seem to like me, but it never gets past the fledgling friendship stage – hanging out a couple of times before it fizzles out and we lose touch. The lack of close friendships is making me feel lonely and unfulfilled; something I once had is missing from my adult life. What can I do to improve my chances of building better, closer friendships?
There is a sense of yearning in your letter to which many people will relate. The need to belong, to be accepted and approved of by others, has long been recognised by psychologists as a powerful human motivator. It sounds as though friendship has come easily to you previously, so this challenge may have taken you by surprise.
Hope Kelaher, a therapist and the author of Here to Make Friends, believes that the friendship landscape has changed since the pandemic: “We now live in a world where people’s social battery and capacity for friendship is slightly more limited than it was. Some of us are still out of practice.”
You mention your desire for “meaningful” friendships. I wonder what that signifies to you. Are you searching for trusted companions with whom you can upload the contents of your soul, or do you dream of hanging out with a rowdy group of regulars at a pub quiz? Is your relocation permanent or temporary? What social activities are on your wishlist? Once you are clear about all that, it will be easier to make a new plan of action.
Kelaher suggests that, in order to get the social life you want, it helps to be strategic, but also to embrace having friends who fulfil lots of functions. Not every friend you make is going to be up for deep, meaningful chats. “There are friends you have fun with, neighbourhood friends, and then there might be others who don’t share your interests, but you know you could count on to get you out of jail,” she says.
The key to developing consequential connections is to establish as soon as possible if there is common ground, says Georgie Nightingall, who runs the “human connection” organisation Trigger Conversations. “There are certain things everyone shares and these are the most conversationally fruitful – most of us read or watch TV, most of us have weekends,” she says. Asking for literary or film recommendations can be particularly effective. “Then you can offer to email them a link to what you were talking about. It’s a low-risk way of contacting them and inviting them for coffee.”
Nightingall mentions “the liking gap” – the idea that people generally think a stranger likes them less than they do – so it’s worth taking a risk. “If you’re really enjoying a conversation, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with saying: ‘Fancy going for coffee sometime?’ They probably wanted to suggest it, but we all fear rejection.”
In your situation, it can be easy to dwell on what you have left behind. But moving abroad offers a great opportunity for adventure and reinvention. Seek out expat groups, language classes and English-speaking book groups, all of which offer a ready-made social life. Many people shudder at the thought of expat groups, so you might be wondering if it’s worth the effort. I think it is. The dispiriting trouble with isolation is that it can leave you with nothing to talk about.
Years ago, while living in Paris, I joined an anglophone group. I still cringe at the memory: 12 misanthropic expats, all searching for camaraderie. I made no friends in that group, yet it transformed my social life. Why? Because, from then on, I had a great opening line for every person I met: “Let me tell you about this terrible expat group …”
So, dive in, be bold and relish every moment of your new life.