How to Make Friends in a New City

Hello, butterbeans! This is a repost from 2013, with just a handful of changes throughout. It is one of my most-read posts of all time and, as many of you are graduating from college and moving cities, I thought it was a good time to share it again. Happy moving!

Does anyone have this image source? I cannot find!

The end of this month officially marks three years in Atlanta for me, which is insane because it feels like only yesterday that I packed up a U-Haul and moved here. At the same time, though, it feels like a lifetime ago that I was living in Indy with my parents. So, so many things in my life have changed. My Brookhaven apartment is a world away now. (What I didn't tell you in 2013 is that I had also gone through a really tough breakup after moving here for a boy. Atlanta felt big and scary and lonely for a long, long time.)

Since moving here, I've gotten a lot of requests for a post on how to make friends in a new city. And while I, by no means, consider myself a pro, I figured I might as well share what I know. 

Friendships after college fit right into the entire decade of our 20s perfectly: they're a total adjustment. 

They're amazing because you're growing up together - learning how to be a mini adult, bonding over the woes of working (where's our summer?), figuring out how to cook, learning the absolute beauty of the weekend.

But you're also paying bills. Learning to say no. Realizing that a best friend after college doesn't mean spending every waking minute together, eating late night food, sharing closets and cracking up over the ridiculous thing that guy said.

No, instead, these friendships are about growing through this transition together and figuring out where we all net out. 

You begin to see that we're not all the same. When you're not living the same life [wake up, class, workout, class, eat, study, go out. Begin again.], priorities become very real.

There are people that will still go out every night, rolling into work hungover but somehow magically presentable. There are people that get married and have babies right away. There are those that fly through corporate America, pouring themselves into the latter, climbing and climbing. And there are those who are slowly trying to figure it out - manage a balance of collegehood and adulthood, maturity and grace. 

Find your people. They're all good people. Find the ones that suit you. And, here's how I think you should do it...

How to Make Friends in a New City

1. Be vulnerable. I know. I really started with a zinger. But it's key. You have to be willing to put yourself out there - ask people to do something, be a little more open than you traditionally would be and keep on trying. Sometimes you don't connect the first time you hang out. Sometimes people are crazy busy. Keep asking. 

I am embarrassed to admit this, but when I first moved here, if I met someone in a social setting and could see myself being friends with them, I'd say: I know we just met, but do you want to hang out sometime? And then, I'd normally add: I just moved here and don't really have any friends yet, but you seem great! 

And you know what? Normally they would say: I did, too! It's so hard not knowing anyone! When you're honest with people about your intentions and feelings, it's amazing how honest they'll be in return. Some of my greatest friendships here began with that pickup line. 

(Also, the entire experience of asking girls on friend-dates gave me so much more sympathy for boys. It's nerve wracking!)

2. Be a yes man. I realize this totally goes against all my unglorification of busyness business. But this is a sprint, my friends. In the marathon of life, I still believe in slowing down and prioritizing. However, when you're trying to make friends, sometimes you just have to be that girl that says yes to things. You can't get to know people if you always go home and sit on the couch. It's after you make friends that you begin hibernating. 

Kidding. 

But seriously: say yes to things. When Melly and I first met, we clicked pretty quickly. And we later admitted that a huge draw to one another was that we were both always down to try new things. It's amazing to me how many people (1) refuse to do things on weeknights and (2) aren't willing to get outside of their comfort zones. I'm certainly not suggesting you do things you hate all the time or never, ever have a night at home with wine and your dog. But, when you're first meeting people, be willing to get outside of your comfort zone a bit. It's amazing what you'll learn about yourself and who you'll meet. 

3. Join, join, join things {that interest you}. I am not exaggerating when I say that the majority of the friends I've made since moving here (and didn't meet at work) have been through either (1) my bible study or (2) volunteering for Children's Healthcare of Atlanta. Do they all go to my church or volunteer there? Heck, no! But they are a friend of a friend of a friend who is now my friend. Besides, when you meet people who do care about the things you care about, you often find you have other things in common, too. 

4. Go places. I told you a while back that people love to tell me: You could meet your next boyfriend anywhere, even the grocery store! And even though it's not my favorite thing to hear, because it encourages people to act a little crazy at the grocery store (like following the cute boy to the beef jerky section when you're vegan...), there's truth to it. You can meet people anywhere - and you will! You just have to go places. 

When I first moved here, I worked from home because my company was in Indiana. Every day I went to Starbucks and soon learned that this other 20-something guy, Frank, did the same thing. By the end of the first few months, Frank and I were pals. He'd email he if I didn't show up, we'd talk all about his family's vacation home in Marblehead and slowly, we became friends. 

5. Don't be afraid to do things alone. I did so much by myself when I first moved here, and what I learned is that doing things by yourself isn't really that lonely at all. In fact, it's empowering. Today, I'm so glad I have people I can call to do things, yes. But I look back on those days and am grateful for the way trying a new class, joining a club and attending church alone shaped me. I don't fear being alone and now I have no qualms about awkwardly hitting on potential friends, hoping they might like to grab coffee sometime. 

6. Think outside the box. In high school and college, most of my friends were just like me. And that was amazing and fun and we gelled so nicely. But now, a lot of my friends are really different than me. And you know what? It's pretty cool. They teach me to think differently and offer a fresh perspective. Don't be afraid to be friends with someone who looks and acts differently than you. You never know what they'll teach you. 

7. Don't forget your old friends. Making new friends is exciting, but the old ones feel like home. You need them both. My friends and I used to call one another after our girl dates and report back: Yes, I think I like her - we might even hang out again! Or, Nah, she wasn't for me. And then: I'm so glad I have you

8. And remember, it will happen. Be patient. Give yourself grace. Know that it takes time to meet the right friends and develop a connection. As my mom used to tell me when I'd cry to her because I hadn't made friends yet, and just missed the ones I had from home: Once in a lifetime friends are hard to find and you're lucky enough to have found more than one in your lifetime. So, keep trying - it'll happen. And when you look back one day and realize the city doesn't feel so big and scary anymore - it kind of feels like a small town - you'll realize it was worth the wait. I promise. 

the life you were given vs. the one you think you should have

If I don't meet a guy today, I told my roommate, Melly, I'm going to lose it.

I was at my wit's end. I felt like I couldn't go more day being single. I was lonely, felt stuck and wasn't enjoying this season of my 20s at all. I felt so far behind my friends; it was as if they had all boarded a cruise ship and I was stuck on the shore, waving goodbye, holding back tears.

I liked my job and loved Atlanta, but the life I had created felt secondary to the one I was waiting for: the one that included a husband and babies. I felt like a casette player, cycling through the same tired magentic tape, waiting for someone to switch it out and give me a new song to sing. 

The loneliness felt unbearable. The waiting unrelenting.

I tried making plans to meet a guy, thinking that perhaps he, too, enjoyed dinner at Whole Foods or a 6 a.m. Flywheel class. I gave myself pep talks, repeating the not-so-encouraging platitudes I'd been given: You can meet a guy anywhere! Stay positive; positivity attracts a relationship! 

One day after church, an older woman stopped me as I exited the pew. As she took my name and age, I thought, Yes! This is it! She's going to set me up with her son! I was already planning a happy dance. I'd love for you to babysit my grandchildren, she exclaimed. It wasn't quite the Friday night I was looking for. 

I stalked other couples' relationships on Facebook, trying to figure out if they were older than me so I could calculate just how far behind I was. When I'd meet an engaged girl at a party, I'd ask very pointed questions: How did you meet your husband? What did you talk about? How long did it take for you to go on a date after meeting? I thought researching enough would provide a formula for how and when you can meet your husband. 

If you've been around this blog enough, you know I quit dating for a while before I met my husband. This was an essential step for me to break free from the idol that marriage had become.

I also had to break free from the future I'd planned, the concern that my ovaries were going out of commission and the belief that my life would begin when I met my husband. 

Those things are lies and those lies will suffocate you. They will take all of the joy out of this season of life. They will paralyze you, give you anxiety and make you panic every time you near your birthday. 

I've learned lately that singleness isn't the only thing that will do this to you. Every step throughout our lives has the power to make us believe we are behind -  but only if we let it. As we enter into our second year of marriage and begin discussing a house and a family, it would be easy to lose touch with the phase we're currently in. It is tempting to look to that future with wanting eyes, feeling stuck in our rental.  But we aren't going to do that this time around. 

I've learned we have to let go of the lives we thought we'd have in order to embrace the lives we are meant to have. 

I recently heard Deidra Riggs speak about expectations vs. reality. She said she's learned you have to walk through the doors that are opened to you and stop trying to knock on the ones that are closed. Her message resonated deeply with me.

For years, I was banging on doors that were not meant to be opened. I wasted a lot of energy looking for keys to those doors. As I've gotten older, I've tried to leave the closed doors alone and, instead, run through the ones that are already opened to me. 

I can't help but wonder how many of us are standing in front of doors that aren't meant to be opened today. Perhaps it's a relationship, a job or grad school. Perhaps it's followers on social media or business success. Perhaps it's a new baby or city.

I'm learning that there are so many doors that are already opened to us, but so often we get stuck standing behind ones that aren't meant to be ours. When we stop resisting where we are in life and, instead, open our hands up to the possibility of each season, we unlock the beauty in it. 

Nothing has changed my life more than learning to embrace the one I already have - the messy, the complicated, the unplanned - and resisting the urge to covet what I think I should have. Comparing where I am to where I think I should be is like swimming up stream - it's tiring and you don't get anywhere in the end. When we learn to move with the rhythm of each season, not against it, we wind up exactly where we are meant to be. 

you don't have to do all the things.

In high school, I was on the swim team and ran cross country and track. People always asked me why I picked such boring sports and consistently wondered what I thought about during the long workouts. I always told them the not-so-exciting truth: I did math in my head. I'd take my splits and divide them by the distance I'd run. Or I'd find different ways to flip the yardage in the pool around in my head - if this, then that, with math. 

I guess I didn't really dispel their perception that I'd selected boring sports?

I started swimming on a team when I was four and didn't stop until my sophomore year of college. Many of my childhood memories revolve around the pool and the smell of chlorine can still elicit more positive memories than any other scent besides my childhood home. For a while, I think I felt more comfortable under water than above it.

After swimming for so many years, by high school, I was able to do a lot of different races. I could sprint a 50 freestyle if I needed to just as easily as I could grind out a 500 (which, for those who don't know about swimming, is a big mental difference). For a while, I constantly competed in different races - distance one meet, sprinting the next. It wasn't until later in my career that a good coach finally forced me to specialize. He started having me train for primarily distance races, understanding that while I could sprint if needed, it was better to develop my slow twitch muscles more thoroughly. 

I thought about this recently as a client mentioned she was struggling to specialize in her career. She is really good at a lot of different things. What a gift! Right? Right. But, it can also be really overwhelming. You can wind up pulled in a lot of directions in your career. Also, a lot of people will want you to be on their nonprofit boards and business councils and run their clubs.

When you're good at a lot of things, people would like your help with a lot of things. 

I guess I wanted to tell you two things, dear readers, in case you share this same situation with my client:

1. Just because you're good at something doesn't mean you have to do it.

Different seasons of life call for different commitments. Some seasons are for leading, some for following. Some are for caring for others, some are for letting yourself be cared for. We are not meant to do every thing in every season. We must harvest & rest. When we let go of something, we make space for something else. You cannot be everything to everyone all the time. 

2. It's OK to say no.

Do you want me to repeat that? It's OK to say no. It took me until I was pretttty much 30 to believe this enough to act upon it. You don't have to make up a reason, either. You can just be honest and tell someone: I'm sorry, I am just not up for that right now. I believe in you and want you to know I support you. 

I've learned (mostly through therapy) that there are two types of people in this world: people who have boundaries and people who don't. When you tell someone with boundaries that you aren't able to commit to something, they'll say: OK! Thanks for being honest with me. And thanks for believing in me. Someone who doesn't have boundaries might not be so gracious in their response and it's simply because they aren't giving themselves the same permission to say no. We can only give to others what we first give to ourselves.