On Building Reciprocal Friendships

One of the prescriptions we write most often for single women who are longing for their HVM is to invest in their friendships and hobbies... but what is one to do when even female friendships aren't fulfilling? I came across this predicament last year. I realized that I did all the making plans, the texting first, the texting back, etc. etc. I felt depleted, unwanted, and desperate for human connection. Humans have an evolutionary desire to belong because back in the day, if the tribe ousted you, your odds of survival were dismal. I knew my current friendships were not working for me, but until last year I felt that I did not have any alternatives. Cool people dined in restaurants alone in Europe all the time, but in America? Only losers had to say, "Table for one." (Or so I thought). Still, there came a point where I no longer had the strength left to choose anything else. I stopped reaching out. I stopped making plans. I stopped making any effort at all. All of my friendships died, and I let them. Having lukewarm friendships is like scrolling on social media or zoning out in front of the tv-- it gives our brains something to be "busy" with but is ultimately just a distraction from the things that make us feel alive. There is nothing more human that to love and be loved, and likewise, there is nothing more painful than staring into the abyss with not a single soul beside you. I think that is why many of us choose to be distracted rather than embark on the search for true companionship.

Fortunately I found a good therapist, and for an hour a week I had company. We explored the abyss together. Charted it. Left lifelines and water bottles for the times I would return alone. Slowly, I acclimated and the solitude became less frightening. To my surprise, I even found patches of peace. I took walks, cried, prayed, got massages, wrote poetry, and just tried to live a life for a party of one. For those of us who have an anxious attachment style, I honestly believe that good therapy is the only way to heal. Last summer, my attachment to my therapist was the only thing tethering me to the ground. I felt terrified and desperate and embarrassed to be in this position. But like the chant from one of my favorite kids' books says, "[We're going on a bear hunt] We can't go over it, We can't go under it, We have to go through it!" This time of solitude was a really important foundation to build my future friendships on. It made me realize that it was far better to have no friends than to have shitty friends.

Eventually, I was ready to socialize again. I started with something small-- a discipleship group in my church with three other women. Humans are creatures of habit, so it is helpful to develop routines in places where you can meet people. Show up at the same coffee shop every Saturday morning and make small talk with the people in line. Join a book club and share your opinions on the latest book. Go to that bootcamp class every Monday at 7 and complain to the person next to you that Gina is killing you with the squats. Be consistent and friendly, but be casual. When I first started going to D-group, I didn't do anything but show up. I didn't call the girls my friends or try to meet with them outside of group. Building friendships takes time. I think we all want to find that insta-bestie who is microwave ready to share her deepest secrets and be our shoulder to cry on, but high value people are patient people-- we don't trauma dump on strangers.

I'm not sure when it happened for me exactly, but eventually I was ready to make small, tentative steps in the context of my D-group. A random phone call here, an invite to coffee there. In these early stages, I was r.i.g.i.d. about my boundaries. I would take one small step and wait for it to be reciprocated in some way before taking another. It sounds tit for tat (it is), but I honestly don't think there is anything wrong with this. Especially as a neurodivergent person, I needed to start with structure before I could grow something more organic. Even for neurotypical people, if all you have known is toxicity, your first efforts at friendship will most likely be clunky rather than seamless. In my case, I kept a literal list of all the people I was interested in being friends with. I would write down when I extended an invitation to do something on the list next to their name, and then I would wait for them to extend invitations of their own. While waiting, I continued doing routines in social places and being friendly to strangers, which gave me things to occupy myself with and also yielded more names for the list. I guess I had a scrotation of friendships? I didn't have a specific timeline, but the names of people who didn't reciprocate after a while would get removed from the list. When people did reciprocate, I moved them to the top of the list and made it a priority to reach back out soon and extend another invitation to do something. If people who had been removed from the list reached out, I put them back on the list. However, I removed the "fake" women-- you know the type. She's texted you, "We should hang out sometime!!!" a million times but is somehow never able to pinpoint a day or time? I've become a ghosting advocate in those cases. This is where building routines in social places is also important because some people may take some time to recognize your value, and there is nothing wrong with this. Just like you once had a roster full of distractions, other people have theirs as well, and they may not see a reason to part with them yet. For example, if you invite the girl from your book club out for drinks, she may come but not invite you to do anything just yet. However, if you keep showing up to book club, being friendly, and sharing your opinions, she may realize how cool you are and start taking initiative to hang out with you.

Another thing that has helped me with friendships is realizing that people owe me nothing and I owe them nothing as well. For example, I had a close friend recently flake on plans twice and then text me that she wanted a "break" from our friendship. It hurt to have a close friend treat me this way, but I realized that she didn't owe me an explanation or to stay in a friendship that wasn't working for her. Since I also don't owe her anything, I told her that I accepted her decision and deleted her on everything. In the beginning of this process of stepping back and evaluating my friendships, I realized that a particular of friendship of 2 years seemed reciprocal in that she took equal initiative to invite me to things, but every time we hung out, I left feeling drained and exhausted. This friend didn't know how to do anything but talk about herself and was constantly in crises that she did nothing to fix. I ended up ghosting her. She texted me several times asking me what was wrong, but I never gave her an explanation. I realized that this person had extremely low insight and would likely pitch a fit if I explained to her that she was exhausting to be around, so I didn't bother.

At first, I kept track of everything: who I sent cards to, who I gave birthday presents to, who I brought coffee to at work. I didn't look for the exact gestures to be reciprocated but for the first time in my life, I knew my limits. I would not continue to throw my efforts at people who gave me nothing in return. I didn't get angry or issue demands. I just sat back, noticed how people were treating me, and chose who to invest in based on what I noticed. For the first time, I started experiencing recriprocity. I have a friend who knows I hate driving, and she offers to pick me up every time we go downtown. I told a friend that I was having a crisis of faith recently and she prayed over me at the beach and invited me to a cookout with some of her other friends the next day. A few months ago, a friend picked me up and made me dinner when I was having a bad day with depression. My friends send me cards and letters "just because." They are enthusiastic and engaged when I share my poetry with them. There have been so many other little moments of sweetness, but essentially, for the first time, I feel loved.

After having implemented the "list" system, I am able to be much more flexible with it. I give when I feel like it and don't give when I don't. If someone offers me something, I try not to miss the moment and accept it with gratitude. I realized that I missed these moments all the time in the past. I would be sick and a friend would offer to help, and I would brush it off, assuming they didn't really mean it. I'm sure that some of them didn't mean it, but we also need to stop this culture of saying things that we don't mean. If you accept help that is offered you are also encouraging people not to say things that they don't really mean. I myself am more careful to only say what I mean now-- for example, I don't offer to help someone move unless I really want to show up and help them move. I also ask for what I need and communicate with my friends. A few weeks ago, I was telling some friends about how upsetting and lonely it is to be single. They started giving advice, and I stopped them and told them that I really just needed to rant and have a listening ear. They were so apologetic and proceeded to validate me and let me rant. If you want reciprocal friendships, I am here to tell you that it is possible, but it may require losing all the distractions you currently spend your time with. The process is likely to be painful. It will probably take longer than you want it to take. Such is life. We can either continue to put up with distractions or suck it up and dive headfirst into the search for true companionship.