When Your Friends Don't Fit Anymore

Growing up and growing out of friendships in your 20s

By the time you graduate high school, and then college, and eventually get a job and move to a new city, you most likely have little pockets of friends all over the country. Making friends didn’t feel like something I had to do in the town I grew up in. They are all girls I’ve known since birth. We’ve experienced loss, heartbreak, first kisses, school dances, soccer practices, and school plays together. And then in college, it was a lot of the same thing. We all found ourselves in the same place at the same time, yes, there was a bit of choice, my college roommates, sorority (although it’s not entirely up to you), clubs, classes, sticky fraternity basements. But for the most part, the people I was surrounded by were sometimes just the people closest to me, who had also made the same small choices that led them there.

After college, I learned that friendship becomes a choice. Do I want to text the girls from home that I haven’t seen since last summer? Should I ask to get coffee with the girl who saw me cry on Halloween in my cheerleader costume? Do I say happy birthday to that one friend? Even though that seems to be all our text exchange ever is? I always hate the feeling of going to wish a friend a happy birthday, only to see that our last conversation was her text to me a few months prior. You now get to decide to maintain the relationships you formed when you were younger. Whether that friendship was your choice or not, it no longer matters; it’s up to you to continue it.

Something I’ve felt as I have grown from the girl with chronic anxiety, or the girl who maybe drank too much at the college bars, is that the people who met me when I was that person don’t know me as well now. And when I am with them, they treat me like that girl I don’t feel close to anymore. But as most things go, the ease with which it takes to make these friends does not reflect how it feels to step away from them.

I have always been a socially anxious girl, and not in the way that’s cute and silly like, “I get so nervous before parties,” more in the way that I refuse to go to parties altogether, or sometimes even just out to dinner with my roommates. When I was younger, I was allowed to pick which class list I wanted to be a part of in the summer before school started. I hated groupchats and always felt like I was missing from a few important ones. I was always scared of being left out or uninvited, and found that sometimes I actually was. So now, as much as I sometimes feel the need to step away from people, I also feel the intense urge to get as close as I can. Don’t let this person slip away. Don’t you want to feel included? You don’t know if they'll invite you again if you don’t go this time. As much as I love the Let Them Theory, it still hurts to see people leave you, even if you are the one letting them go.

But now here I am, 24, leaving a city I’ve lived in for two years after college (LA), about to move to a city on the other side of the country (NYC). The friends I have from high school, college, and work are everywhere, and I’m in a position I’ve never been in before. I get to choose the people to spend time with. Having options when it comes to your social life is a luxury I began to understand when I got to college. I forget where I heard it, but I remember learning about how it’s ok to have friends that serve different purposes in your life. Probably similar to the way you can have friends for different times in your life. I had going out friends, class friends, roommates (arguably a different type of friend), and home friends. I like being able to categorize them. It was easy to decide who to see based on the activity, and I never felt like I was leaving anyone out or like I was being the one left out. It doesn’t hurt when your going out friend doesn’t invite you to coffee before class, or if your class friend doesn’t text you before going out. I mean, occasionally they would blend; it was always fun when it did, but for the most part, it felt organized.

I don’t think my mindset has changed much in this regard. I still do have friends I see for different aspects of my life, but I think the harder shift comes when your life changes, and you no longer have a place for those people. I don’t go out much anymore, or at all for that matter, so where do I put my going-out friends? Or the class friends, I mean, I’m not in school anymore, so what about them? This is where I found myself and still do find myself. At first, I felt like nothing had to change; I could switch things up, go with her to yoga, even though we used to drink. I will say sometimes it works. Sometimes, your going-out friends turn into your mini run club friend (a rarity, but I’ve experienced it), or your work friend invites you over for dinner. But when I’ve noticed more as I’ve changed, and the people around me have changed (or not), I've noticed that it’s ok for people to not fit into your life in the way they once did. Forcing a friendship is the same way it feels to force anything in your life; it’s wrong. But learning that it’s ok to let go of people makes it even easier to welcome in the new ones. No, I don’t mean replacing your friends for someone bright and shiny, I mean running into the same girl at the yoga studio and asking if she wants to get coffee one day after class.

As your life changes, the people in it will inevitably change too. And from what I’ve experienced, and I don’t mean to be dramatic, change is the best thing in the world. It leads to growth, new experiences, new people, and places. Trying new things and breaking away from routine makes you feel more alive.

So yes, making, losing, and maintaining friendships in your 20s is complicated. And I don’t mean to sound like I’m coming from this all-knowing place, because the reality is that I’m still learning too. But that’s what sisters are for, right? Making mistakes first so that you don’t have to, or so that you can make the same mistakes, and we can laugh together about it.

(Also, if you happen to be one of my friends reading this, it is not about you; I might be a horrible texter, but I love you)