Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want to Come: One Introvert's Year of Saying Yes

by Jessica Pan

Since I turned thirty, all of my closest friends in London had moved away, had babies, or moved away and had babies. Introverts tend to value quality over quantity when it comes to relationships, and after this exodus, I was left with no friends. I had not thought to stockpile them in case of a drought. Where do you go to make friends when you’re an adult? No, honestly, I’m asking: where do you do this? There are no more late-night study sessions or college social events. And while meeting friends at work is the obvious answer, your options are very limited if you don’t click with your coworkers or if you’re self-employed. (Also, if you’re only friends with people at work, whom do you complain about your coworkers to?) I don’t volunteer. I don’t participate in organized religion. I don’t play team sports. Where do selfish, godless, lazy people go to make friends? That’s where I need to be. Nearly all of my closest friends have been assigned to me: via seating charts at school, college roommates, or desk buddies at work. After taking stock, I realize that mostly all of my friends were forced to sit a few feet away from me for several hours at a time. I’ve never actively reached out to make a new friend who wasn’t within touching distance. With no helpful administrators, just how do we go about making friends as adults? Is it possible to cultivate that intense closeness without the heady combination of naivety, endless hours of free time on hand, and lack of youthful inhibit...