Going First
It Took Longer Than I Thought
This week, I joined an Exhale office hour and spent most of the time listening to everyone else share their thoughts about writing. About 10 minutes before the call ended, Ruth opened the floor for anyone who wanted to talk about their creativity, and I decided to unmute myself and ask my silly little question.
Something I’ve been stuck on for a while…. I don’t really know what to write about on Substack. Some days I want to talk about travel, parenting, being a working mom, or going back to school for my MBA. I keep questioning what’s actually interesting about my life, or if any of it is. What I got back was simple, but it stuck with me. Just share what you feel compelled to share.
So I’m going to take that advice. I’m going to write and publish, without overthinking it, until I reach 100 posts. Then I’ll step back and decide if there’s a theme, a niche, or if I even need one at all.
No one really talks about how hard it is to make friends as an adult.
Fifteen years ago, I moved to Florida and started my first “big girl” job. It was the first time I had ever really been far away from my family. College didn’t count; I was only an hour from home then. This was different. This was starting over.
I assumed making friends would just happen, the way it always had. School made it easy. You were surrounded by people in the same stage of life, seeing the same faces every day. Friendship felt effortless.
But adulthood, as I found, doesn’t work like that.
My world quickly became very small. I worked, and I went to the gym, and went grocery shopping. Those were my main places to meet people. And I did meet people. I had conversations, saw familiar faces, and exchanged small talk. But I wasn’t crossing paths with anyone who felt like me. At the time, I was a 23-year-old who wanted to go to the beach, go shopping, spend money, and just hang out.
The first few months in Florida were harder than I expected. I was adjusting to working full-time, learning a new routine, and trying to prove myself.
I remember coming home after a long shift, sitting on my couch, and realizing that if I wanted real friendships, I was going to have to build them. I was going to have to try. They weren’t just going to find me.
It took about six months before I met someone I’d call a friend. It was a friend of a friend, which really is the best way to meet people.
We had things in common. We both liked to run, we were around the same age, and we both worked in healthcare. We started spending time together, and through her, I met other people.
And slowly, it changed.
Not all at once. Not in some big, obvious way. Just one person, then another. Plans turned into routines, and my calendar started to fill. Casual friendships became something more meaningful.
But something else I learned along the way is that sometimes it’s necessary to be the one who goes first. The one who sends the text. The one who invites people over. The one who makes the plan.
It took me even longer to become that person.
There were so many times I didn’t want to. Times I felt too busy, or my perfectionism got the best of me, and I wanted to cancel. Times I thought it might be easier to just wait and see if someone else reached out instead.
But I kept trying.
Because what I learned is that there are a lot of people waiting. Waiting to be invited. Waiting to feel included. Waiting for someone else to make the first move.
And more often than not, when I did go first, something came from it.
Once I found a few people, everything started to expand. Friends introduced me to other friends, and what started as a few connections eventually grew into a group.
But it didn’t start that way.
It started with showing up when it felt uncomfortable. Saying yes when it would have been easier to stay home. Reaching out, even when I wasn’t sure what would come back.
Becoming a mom made this process easier. My friend group expanded when my son was born because I was constantly around other moms. We had an instant connection; we were all in the thick of motherhood together. We bonded over navigating having another human to take care of. It was easier to do motherhood together, so my mom group got close.
Even now, I still miss my family and the friends I grew up with in Massachusetts. That part never really goes away. There is a version of me that will always feel tied to where I came from.
But the tables have turned in a way I never expected.
Now, I have a strong, steady, deeply meaningful group of friends here in Florida. The kind of friendships built over years, through life changes, shared routines, and unplanned moments.
And sometimes, when I think about leaving or moving away, I catch myself wondering Would I ever find this kind of friendship again?
Because finding good company happens over time.
It’s about open enough, and sometimes brave enough to go first, for something real to grow.
This post is part of a blog hop with Exhale—an online community of women pursuing creativity alongside motherhood, led by the writing team behind Coffee + Crumbs. Click here to view the next post in the series "In Good Company."
Linda, so great to have you here, and read your writing. The sense of what you write will come and it will be neat to see your words unfold.
Friends close like family have been the biggest gift in my life! I’m glad you’ve found your people too.