Navigating adult friendships —
We gain some, we lose a lot.
Ah, adult friendships. Don’t we all wish it was as easy as taking turns at the slide or splitting a twin popsicle with a stranger?
Here’s my narration of adult friendships, mostly from my own experiences, and since I’m only about to turn 42 as of writing, I’ll share insights only up to this point. Also note that these views only consider the most common, most ideal of circumstances, and do not consider extreme life curveballs such as death, sickness, and the like.
In our 20s…
We would desperately cling on to our college friends (or whoever was still with us at this point, could be from earlier years). At the start of this decade, we decide (and un-decide) on career choices, subconsciously also considering being close to our friends, whether in physical proximity or by association. We schedule regular meet ups, try to stay interested in other people’s ventures, compete using other people’s success standards (let’s admit it), and at the same time, try to branch out with our own interests.
Midway through this decade, our old friends would start to fade away into their own busy lives, as we do, too, forging our own, creating and taking part in our new circles.
Some of us would stay the same, while some of us encounter a different kind of growth spurt as we embody new values, subscribe to new life principles, and create new belief systems. We would meet new friends and somehow get convinced that they would be friends for life. We would be in awe of their experiences and would want to learn their ways, and these would be the blueprint of who we would want to become. Later on, we would realize that this coolness and perfection is also flawed and imperfect.
Most of our mid- to late 20s can make us encounter a sense of grief: “losing” friends to current life circumstances and because of new and varying beliefs and values. Why is he still the same as he was when we were 12? Or, She’s not perfect after all.
The mid-20s is also an interesting time for all of us biologically, because our prefrontal cortex would finally be complete and we will start to learn to manage extreme hormonal emotions past the age of 25. That means we would have better access to free will — i.e. choosing how to respond to circumstances rather than reacting to them.
By the end of this decade, we would’ve sobered up a bit from the cocktail of emotions and, hopefully, we have a few, stable friends who are good for us for the time being.
In our 30s…
At this time, most of us would have already decided on what to do with our lives (including not making drastic changes OR making drastic changes) and settling in nicely into whatever we have decided for ourselves. We start to draw up our plans: maybe career, finances, relationships, family, business, lifestyle. We create a personal identity based on these choices, as well as social circles around it.Friends who cannot support these plans or identity start to fade away, and those whom we benefit from become our support group.
Midway through this decade, we experience another falling out, but maybe a little less dramatic and extreme now, and we try to grasp and understand that some friendships are just temporary, really— How is it that I haven’t even heard from my constant lunch buddy for 4 years in XYZ Company? We think, Maybe this is okay. We don’t have to be in constant contact to be “friends.” There’s social media anyway.
Some really good friends from 10 years or so ago may still be here or make a reappearance at this point, celebrating this “new you” with this new purpose and goal in life, embracing the person we have become by now, and maybe even becoming our new (but old) support system. The same people would be there for us in moments of difficulty and tragedy, and they will most likely be with us for most of our lives.
Toward the end of the decade, we would have learned the difference between acquintances, community, peers, and FRIENDS. We learn to juggle these labels and create boundaries and clear relationship expectations around them. We try to uphold these boundaries, slip along the way sometimes, but we continue to learn. We understand that we also need to recharge and nurture ourselves so we can nurture our relationships with others. We would also have a good idea what our emotional tendencies are in relationships and, by now, we may already have our personalized tools to manage them, making it easier to navigate friendships and relationships.
During this time, we may also decide that we don’t need a lot of friends. We have our best ones and our families, and for most, that is enough.
In our 40s…
Most of us are still focusing on that big goal: a promotion, a family, a house, financial freedom. But this is also the time we become unapologetically us and decide: we only live once, let’s close all the storylines that were left open-ended.
We seriously work on healing our inner child, which people like to call a mid-life crisis. We tick off whatever we need to tick off: put up that business, buy that sports car/luxury bag/watch collection/etc., learn that language, travel the world, get insanely healthy, obsess over skincare, get into a spiritual journey…
(Personal share: Mine is to learn to jump on a bike.)
There’s always an interesting story behind one’s “mid-life crisis” and now you meet new people who will intersect us in this journey. Tricky, tricky; they have varying ages, backgrounds, and value systems, and they bring with them a new culture, new set of being. Are they friends? Is this considered a community? Are they peers or merely acquaintances?
We’re in our 40s — we insist in being our authentic selves, and if they get it, great. If not, who cares, right? Well, turns out we do. WE CARE. During this time, some of us crave that sense of belongingness somehow, still, so we experiment. We adapt. Whether that’s at work, in our family, in our hobby circles, at church, humans crave belongingness at varying degrees, and we reinvent and discover parts of ourselves that fit new puzzle pieces.
By now we understand that “friendships” could be transitory, utilitarian, and circumstantial. We get that. But we would still experience the same grief of losing acquaintances, friends, or peers, or when exiting a community. This grief is normal, we would say, as we have experienced this a thousand times before. Doesn’t make it any easier though.
But oh, there is the joy of finding a rare diamond: someone new from this mid-life who accepts you for who you are and who gets you. Suddenly you feel like you’ve known each other for years.
Let’s not forget our old friends. By now, we would have handpicked our people of comfort: the truest of friends who have stood the test of time (and other stupid things we don’t talk about anymore). These are the people we spend energy on; they accept you for all that you are and yet they call you out when needed.
These are “my dailies” because we are in contact almost every day, sharing our human experiences with each other: joy, anger, sadness, wonder, love, and everything in between.
So… What’s next?
I honestly don’t know.
Friendships end because of many reasons, and sometimes, that reason is us.
But if there’s anything I can assure you of, it is this:
We will continue to calibrate our definition of friendship.
We will continue to gain and lose people, and there will be those that will remain and grow with us. There will be people who will just click with us, and those who will not. Some new people may surprise us with a loving and honest friendships. Some of our long-time friends may disappoint us.
This is a fact of life that, at 41, still leaves me in awe. I feel deeply about these losses, and yet I am excited to still take part in what’s to come.
Let’s keep walking… lightly, gently… and let’s navigate this together.
Dedicating this to my clients who are undergoing a sense of grief from losing friends as we trudge through life changes and circumstances. I, too, have recently gone through the same loss, and I wanted to send a bow of gratitude to them because they have been instrumental to my growth this year alone.
To everyone — It will hurt sometimes, but it will be okay. You are not alone.
To my dailies — Thank you for the daily gift of friendship. You know who you are.
To my husband — Thank you for being the best of all my friends and for always bringing out the best version of myself. I love you and I treasure the dimension of friendship in our relationship the most.
