Losing a friend to their partner is a teenage canon event. At first, we’re excited for them and understand when they flake on the after-school hangout. Having a new boyfriend or girlfriend is a big deal; of course, you can cover when their parents question their whereabouts. No, you’re not mad that they missed your birthday to go on that spontaneous date.
It’s fine, until it’s not. Until you, too, begin to question: where have they been in your life?
While the adult world may lack high school theatrics, modern social networking has birthed its own ‘Mr. Steal Your Girl’ — individualism.
Dr. Dwivedi argues that, in moderation, the prioritization of individuality, or the “pursuit of self-fulfillment,” can foster self-efficacy, creativity, personal development, and democratic values.
Unfortunately, we live in a world of excess.
Rather than strengthen our existing connections, many of us have chosen to devote our energy to pursuing complete independence.
In doing so, we’re not just filling our cups; our glass is overflowing. And while we drown in the lonely overflow from ‘protecting our peace’, the lifeboat of connection drifts further out to sea, leaving no hand to pull us from the water.
Do not disturb: avoiding negativity or avoiding conflict?
The term ‘protecting your peace’ has recently flooded our homepages, suggesting that one can “limit stress” via social isolation. Staying in is the new going out, ghosting and disengagement are the new self-care.
Influencers have repackaged avoidance as the removal of negative energy, encouraging others to cut off relationships at the slightest friction.
Like everything in life, there’s always nuance. For those in truly dysfunctional relationships, pruning is a necessity, not an option. That being said, many experts suggest that there has been an overcorrection in the way that we are currently distinguishing between toxicity and a relationship that is merely going through a rough patch.
There’s no way around it: conflict is uncomfortable. But by avoiding it altogether, we are denying ourselves the opportunity to mature and solidify our connections. The strongest friendships are between people who have challenged each other’s opinions and taken responsibility for mistakes.
At the end of the day, it’s about accepting that sometimes you will be in the wrong and you will be the bad friend, but so will they.
Healing friendship wounds before they fester
The World Health Organization recently reported that 16% of the world’s population is currently suffering from chronic loneliness — that’s 1 in 6.
Humans are social creatures, inherently wired to connect and live alongside others. When we experience loneliness, our body takes it as a biological attack. In response, glucocorticoids such as cortisol are released, promoting the spread of low-grade inflammation and disease.
If left untreated, this hyperimmune response can develop into long-term health issues, raising the rate of mortality by 33% — the equivalent of smoking 15 cigarettes a day, according to the U.S. Surgeon General’s Advisory.
To escape this morbid reality, we need to learn to maintain our current relationships and find the courage to seek new ones.
The first step in this puzzle is conflict management.
A neutral ground of intimacy
Conflict management has never come naturally to me, but staying silent didn’t protect my relationships; it only let their wounds fester.
Recently, I’ve been pushing myself to break past the fear of discomfort, molding my vulnerability into a strength. Allowing myself to express my feelings authentically has formed a neutral ground of intimacy, where both parties can vocalize their emotions without apprehension.
In doing so, I’ve begun to see conflict less as something to fear and more as an opportunity to understand myself and others more honestly. And while that balance is still something I’m working toward, each conversation feels like a small step away from avoidance and closer to something more constructive.
Be willing to be embarrassed
The second cure for loneliness involves learning how to start over.
In school, we’re given structure, thrown into environments teeming with people our age. Classes bring shared interests and chances to form bonds. The adult world is a much harder nut to crack. Casual community is no longer a given; it is something to be sought.
As someone who’s experienced loneliness, I know how terrifying it can be to keep trying to make connections after so many have gone wrong. What I’ve come to understand, though, is that much of that fear comes from self-doubt rather than reality. Once you’re able to set that aside and accept a few awkward social encounters, it actually becomes quite easy to find like-minded people.
In seeking out friends, I’ve discovered that the most effective method is what I like to call Pokémon Go(ing). When I see someone cool in public, I don’t just think it, I speak it.
Sure, some of those poke-ball compliments will be duds, some will bounce right off, but as long as you push past the embarrassment of rejection, you’ll eventually succeed. And when that ball sticks, you will begin to realize, again and again, that the average person is far more open to connection than we ever give them credit for.
Even more importantly, you’ll realize just how much warmth others can see in you —often long before you’re able to see it in yourself.
It takes villagers to have a village
The third and final ingredient to a successful social life is being present.
In response to society’s excessive protection of peace, another trend is circulating in the media, that of being ‘a villager.’ The simple explanation of this concept is that to cultivate community, we must be active participants.
After a 40-hour work week, it’s all too easy to flake out on that birthday party, to cancel on that dinner, to call an Uber instead of a friend. To connect in this era, we have to be okay with being inconvenienced.
Being a villager involves consistency, and that requires sacrifice. Sacrificing the comfort of your bed for a weekday birthday party, sacrificing fuel to pick up your friend from the airport, or sacrificing your time to make someone a home-cooked meal.
It’s supporting your loved ones without expecting anything in return.
Make a friend, then make the effort.
