That’s what new friends are for

You see, at some point in the transition into true adulthood (which I maintain is now somewhere in your mid-thirties, given that our generation is doing everything later than the generations that came before) your relationships change. Marriages, partnerships and families mature and bed in. People become more time-poor and their priorities alter. Your interests and social structures diverge and mutate. Maybe you’re single and most people close to you have settled down. Maybe you’re a new mam and you need other mams to tell you you’re not the only one who cried in the middle of Tesco last Tuesday. Maybe the binge drinking of your twenties isn’t quite what you have in mind five nights a week anymore. Maybe you’re lucky and your friend group has matured and evolved right along with you and you don’t think you have space for anyone new in your life. But isn’t it a wonderful possibility all the same?

Making new friends later in life can be a skill, a challenge, a delightful accident or a necessity. For some, it might be as simple as looking for new people to hang out with now that everyone else is shacked up with their Seamuses or their Padraigs or their Siobháns. For others, it can be a continuing slog of trying to combat years of isolation or loneliness. For me, it’s a combination of factors. My recently acquired therapist (I’ve tried to make her my new best friend, but she tells me it’s inappropriate) has recommended that I need to be more present, to live more in the moment, to do things that I truly enjoy. I’m working on identifying those things and diligently trying to recruit my current friends to do them with me, but I’m also now on the lookout for new pals to forge forward in life with. I’ve taken up sea swimming with a friend of a friend. I’ve reached out to people whose company I’ve enjoyed in the past but were always just acquaintances. I’ve cultivated online friendships and solidi ed them in real life. I feel excited and rewarded and energised.