I have no friends.
At least, that’s what it feels like.
To be accurate, when I say “no,” I really mean “a paltry few.”
“Yes, it is unseasonably warm,” she replied tersely to my comment about the weather.
The conversation stopped there.
I figured she was socially impaired.
A few minutes later, more people arrived.
She ditched me and quickly became the center of a chatty clique.
She was a talker, only not with me.
Hours later, I got great news about a project I’d been slaving over.
Thrilled, I called my husband, then my parents.
I went from elation to depression in seconds.
“The happiest 10 percent of self-described happy people all say they have positive, close relationships.”
- Indeed, every psychologist I interviewed rhapsodized about the benefitsphysiological and otherwiseof strong social connections.
Totally Sensational Advice for Living and Loving(Outskirts Press).
In college, I had scores of friends.
It’s easy to befriend just about anyone," Sapadin explains.
As an undergraduate, I was mainly friends with English majors, Deadheads and the student-newspaper crowd.
Not surprisingly, I was an English major and a Deadhead, and I wrote for the student newspaper.
My phone rang constantly with invitations, which I always accepted.
I had wing women for bar crawling and guy friends to console me when my latest relationship went bust.
Whatever my social need, I had a friend (or several) to meet it.
Yet unlike online friendships, those in real life require more than a clever status update to maintain.
Time must be spent.
And therein lies the problem.
My social web link started contracting in my mid-20s, when I started dating someone seriously.
Things got even worse after Glenn and I married and had kids.
More chums, casual and close, drifted away.
Then we had Lucy, baby number two, and I quit my job to be a freelance writer.
Suddenly, my seemingly strong work bonds began to disintegrate.
She was right, of course.
I couldn’t be there for her the way I had been when I was childless and carefree.
But it turns out that this downward trend is quite naturaland not necessarily a bad thing.
“In early adult life, there’s more benefit to having a wide range of friends.
“But as people get older, they choose to have fewer but more fulfilling connections.”
For 16- to 18-year-olds, the average number of contacts is 59.
For those between 25 and 35, it’s closer to 30.
Most people average 21.
I compare it to putting all your friends in a centrifuge.
It whirls around, and most casual friends get splattered against the wall.
The ones who are left standing are likely to be there for life.”
I know I did.
His shrink promptly prescribed nights out, as a couple and with friends.
I also gained 40 pounds.
(If I wasn’t going to see anyone, why bother paying attention to my diet?)
Indeed, psychologists have long described four major types of friendships, all key in their way.
The trick, it seems, is getting your friendship blend right.
Acquaintances might be a fun treat, but they won’t necessarily buoy you during rocky times.
Not including family, I counted five.
Sure, my routine now is all about kids, marriage and work.
But my girls will go off to college and each have a family of her own one day.
Seven years ago, Glenn died from cancer, at age 34.
Not an attractive picture.
Am I a misanthrope?
To her way of thinking, I’m doing fine in the friend department.
“We live in a more-is-better culture.
“But that’s not necessarily true when it comes to friends.”
I find this notion comforting.
Besides, I do tend to treasure my privacy.
“You might simply have limited social needssome individuals are gregarious; others are reticent.
Some people hate being alone; for others, solitude is a necessity.
It’s all normal,” Sapadin tells me.
Her words resonate with me.
I understand that other people find solace in numbers during hard times.
My lonerlike predilections may also have something to do with my birth order.
(I’m a middle child.)
“As a result, they seek that kind of attention as adults.
So why don’t I feel secure with my die-hard crew of five?
Like I said before, anything can happen and likely will.
Um, I seem to have a problem with that.
“But look at whyyou have no time or energy at this point.
When I think about it, I realize I could always take an office job again to meet people.
Although the thought of doing those things todayor next weekmakes me queasy.
“To ease your anxiety about the future, add the wordsright nowto your thinking,” Sapadin suggests.
“Say, ‘Right now, my focus is on family and work.
And that’s OK.
When the time comes to make new friends, I will.'”
Photo Credit: Thayer Allyson Gowdy
