Platonic: How the Science of Attachment Can Help You Make—and Keep—Friends

by Marisa G. Franco

What the group revealed about the impact of connection is the basis of this book: connection affects who we are, and who we are affects how we connect. When we have felt connected, we’ve grown. We’ve become more open, more empathic, bolder. When we have felt disconnected, we’ve withered. We’ve become closed off, judgmental, or distant in acts of self-protection. Our personalities, alongside the way we show up as friends, then, are shaped by our past—we feel lovable because someone loved us well. We are prickly because someone hasn’t loved us enough.

While some friendships buckled under the honesty of her grief, others deepened, and she realized that being vulnerable, asking for support, could be a portal to deep intimacy.

“I take measure of the value of the relationship in terms of whether we enjoy each other’s company, do things together, and share things with each other. The answer to all those questions is yes.” She’s in no rush to determine the fate of the relationship because “friendship is good too, and it’s not a second resort.”

“For it does not desire this or that body, but desires the splendor of the divine light shining through bodies.” Platonic love was viewed as superior to romance.

Scientists have found that of 106 factors that influence depression, having someone to confide in is the strongest preventor. The impact of loneliness on our mortality is akin to smoking fifteen cigarettes a day. One study found the most pronounced difference between happy and unhappy people was not how attractive or religious they were or how many good things happened to them. It was their level of social connection.

Meta-analyses have found, for example, that exercise decreases our risk of death by 23 to 30 percent, diet by up to 24 percent, and a large social network by 45 percent.

Friends, distinct from parents, do not expect us to live out their hopes and wants for us. With friends, distinct from spouses, we are not shackled with the insurmountable expectation of being someone’s everything, their puzzle piece to completeness. And distinct from our children, we aren’t the sole propagator of our friends’ survival. Our ancestors lived in tribes, where responsibility for one another was diffused among many. Friendship, then, is a rediscovery of an ancient truth we’ve long buried: it takes an entire community for us to feel whole.

British author C. S. Lewis once said, “Eros [romantic passion] will have naked bodies; Friendship naked personalities.”

Research finds that having one friend in an outgroup (i.e., a group you’re not a part of) alters people’s response to that entire outgroup and even increases people’s support of policies benefitting the outgroup, suggesting that friendship may be necessary (but likely not sufficient) to trigger systemic change. Another study finds our hostility toward outgroups decreases when our friend is friends with someone in that group, signaling that friendship across groups can have ripple effects throughout entire networks. Prejudice thrives in the abstract, but once we become friends, others become complex beings who hurt and love just like we do, and no matter how different we think they are, we see ourselves in them.

A study with participants from Germany, Czech Republic, and Cameroon found that across all three cultures, people who felt disconnected experienced something called social cynicism, “a negative view of human nature, a biased view against some groups of people, a mistrust of social institutions, and a disregard of ethical means for achieving an end.”

“Anything unspeakable to you is affecting you.” That’s why we don’t heal shame by hiding it. When we share it, and our friends love and accept us, we are released from the labor of guarding our shame. Whatever alleged flaw triggered our shame becomes a part of who we are, not the entirety of who we are. This is how the empathy we receive from friends makes us whole.

Friendship isn’t just a space to practice empathy; it’s a space to develop it.

One study, for example, tested whether having friends during formative years affects who we become as adults. It compared fifth graders who did have friends with fifth graders who did not on several outcomes in adulthood. The fifth graders with friends were less depressed, more moral, and had higher self-worth as adults. If we were asked, How did you become empathic? More moral? Develop high self-esteem?, for most of us, our answer wouldn’t be friends. Education, self-reflection, therapy, or genes, we might say. We’re not always conscious of the way friendship transforms us, but it still does. And it doesn’t just make us into better versions of ourselves. It helps us figure out who we are.

Our friends advertise the kaleidoscope of ways we can live. They expose us to new ways of being in the world, showing us another life is possible. As Anaïs Nin, the French Cuban writer, puts it, “Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.”

In psychology-speak, Callee and Lee’s friendship illustrates the tenets of self-expansion theory. The theory emphasizes that our identity needs to constantly expand for us to be fulfilled, and relationships are our primary means for expansion. That’s because when we get close to someone, we include them in our sense of ourselves, a phenomenon aptly termed “inclusion of others in the self.”

friendship has unique advantages for self-expansion. Even in my greatest romantic relationships, when I haven’t seen friends enough, I’ve felt my personality accordion inward. One person, no matter how great, could surface only one side of me. Hanging out with different friends dilated my personality like a peacock fanning its tail.

Most of us look forward to the day when our identity hardens, like a cast protecting against life’s dings. When we’re younger, we yearn for the moment when we’ll be fully formed and have life figured out. Maybe it’s when we find love, or have kids, or write that book, or retire. And then we get older and realize that moment never happens. You’re never done figuring it out, but hopefully you’re better equipped to tolerate not knowing. This uncertainty is also an offering—an opportunity not only to expand, evolve, and grow, but also to deepen our friendships by letting others be agents of our transformation.

Anxious attachment. People who are anxiously attached assume others will abandon them. To keep themselves from being abandoned, they act clingily, are overly self-sacrificing to accommodate others, or plunge into intimacy too rapidly.

each new relationship can change your attachment style.

Even as attachment evolves based on our ongoing relationships, attachment theory still illustrates that how we view our relationships is not objective; it’s influenced by our past and by how our parents, and then others in our lives, responded to us. But most of us don’t recognize this. We see our perceptions—refracted through our attachment style—as reality.

The psychologist Fred H. Goldner coined the term “pronoia” to describe the positive counterpart of paranoia. People with pronoia possess the delusion that, despite any evidence to the contrary, the universe is scheming for their success and that others like, trust, and want the best for them. What do you call a non-delusional pronoid? A secure person. Unless there’s evidence otherwise, their default assumption is that others are trustworthy, like them, and want the best for them. They aren’t Pollyannas—they adjust this optimism based on additional data. But this initial optimism, the belief that everything is going to be all right in the end, is why “life is just easier” for the secure, explains Gillath. “Being secure in our relationships prepares us to be secure in all aspects of our lives.”

A solid sense of self, unrattled by the skirmishes that inevitably arise in close relationships, gives secure people the composure to grant others grace, which explains why, research finds, they are better at maintaining friendships and less likely to get into conflict. And when conflict does arise, secure people are less likely to use harmful strategies like withdrawing or over-complying. Whereas insecure people think solely about whether others meet their needs, secure people climb the emotional observation deck and consider their needs alongside others’. As Nick revealed, even when critiqued, the secure don’t go into a self-defensive mode where they protect themselves, disregard others, and unwittingly damage their relationships. They freely express their needs, not looking to blame or accuse, but to understand and be understood (more on this in the anger chapter).

Secure friends make you feel safe. You’re scared to tell someone you experience bouts of depression, or broke ties with your great-aunt, or put ketchup on your eggs, and your secure friends make you feel loved regardless.

The “hedgehog’s dilemma” is an apt metaphor that can shed light on attachment. Created by the German philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer, the dilemma describes a group of hedgehogs shivering in the cold. They huddle together for warmth, but their quills prick one another, so they retreat: avoidant hedgehogs. But when they’re cold again, they huddle too close: anxious hedgehogs. It’s Schopenhauer’s metaphor for the perils of intimacy—we’re out in the cold without it but injured with it. But intimacy isn’t so perilous for every hedgehog. The secure have learned to strike the right balance of safety and warmth.

This fear and distrust of others make avoidants struggle to both ask for and receive support. So, instead of turning toward others in times of need, they shut down and withdraw.

Avoidants’ go-to strategy for coping with emotions is repressing feelings. When uncomfortable feelings arise, they withdraw or stonewall. Often others perceive their disengagement as callous, but when avoidants withdraw, they are actually emotionally overwhelmed.

People with anxious attachment try to merge with people they’re close to, building relationships of such closeness that their sense of self dissolves. Such intimacy soothes their fears of abandonment while making them vulnerable to an unhealthy friendship dynamic

Another reason anxious people might end up in lopsided friendships is that anxious people martyr themselves in relationships, silencing their needs and prioritizing those of others, convinced that voicing their needs will drive others away. But because their giving can be more of a means to gain love than to express love, they’ll give to people who mistreat them and in ways that compromise personal boundaries

Studies find that anxious people tend to wallow, obsess over issues, and blame themselves.

Neuropsychology sheds light on why the anxious are more sensitive to rejection. One study found that when rejection was simulated in the laboratory, the more anxious someone was, the more the regions of the brain associated with distress lit up. Similarly, another study found that when anxious people viewed a threatening face, their amygdala—the part of their brain associated with negative emotions and stress—was triggered more intensely. When others are confused as to why anxious people freak out over trivial issues, they assume anxious people have the same neural wiring they do. But anxious people’s brain response illustrates that they experience the same events fundamentally differently and more painfully.

anxious people often misfire, projecting rejection in benign circumstances.

But what does this all mean for anxious people’s friendships? Because they’re comfortable with intimacy, they’re able to grow close bonds just as easily as the secure, but research finds their relationships are more emotionally intense and volatile.

We keep others at a distance to protect ourselves, but this also harms us. We reject before potentially being rejected to protect ourselves, but this also harms us. We cling to protect ourselves, but this also harms us. At some point, all the self-protection becomes self-harm.

often we’re closed off because we’re scared. We’re not trying to reject others; we’re trying to protect ourselves. We need most of all for someone to show love and acceptance of us, and yet by shutting them out, we invite the opposite.

With the rise of industrialization, and of parents leaving home to work in factories, community bonds tapered and the nuclear family became the center of people’s world. People began to move for work, but increased residential mobility means friendship becomes more disposable, according to one study. And as people left their family for work, they lived alone for the first time, which magnified loneliness. John Bowlby, one of the fathers of attachment theory, said, “If people know each other and have long-term relationships, mutual help makes sense, because I can help you today and five years hence you can help me. But if you aren’t going to be here in five years, and the community is constantly changing, it is by definition not mutually helpful.” Increasing work demands, residential mobility, and single-person homes explain why The Economist called loneliness “the leprosy of the 21st century.”

I scheduled repeating reminders in my phone to reach out both to my old friends and new friends.”

Find friends who share your interests that your partner doesn’t. Set aside a time each week to catch up with them. Encourage your partner to spend time with friends too. If you’re single and looking for a healthy romantic relationship, lay the foundations by developing strong friendships. Remember: friends will only make your romance better.

When secure people assume others like them, this is a self-fulfilling prophecy termed “the acceptance prophecy.” Danu Anthony Stinson, a psychology professor at the University of Waterloo, and her colleagues hypothesized that “if people expect acceptance, they will behave warmly, which in turn will lead other people to accept them; if they expect rejection, they will behave coldly, which will lead to less acceptance.”

initiative doesn’t mean just showing up. It requires more than that. You must engage with people when you get there, sometimes multiple people. Persistence, it seems, pays off. If you are persistent, you’ll likely have a more positive experience of your social environment.

Initiative requires us to overcome overt and covert avoidance. You not only have to show up. You also have to introduce yourself and stay present and engaged.

The researchers found that students’ ratings of each other’s friendship potential after their first meeting predicted whether they were actually friends nine weeks later. In other words, the spark is real. So trust yourself when you meet someone who feels familiar or comfortable, when there’s chemistry, when you sense you might be experiencing a kindred spirit.

Propinquity is proof that friendship isn’t magical. It’s overwhelmingly determined by the spaces we find or place ourselves in. If we’re lucky, our job, school, or hobbies will already provide us with ample propinquity with others we might get along with. If we’re not, then we’ll have to create our own. That means that if we stay at home all day and watch television, then we may only ever achieve propinquity with late-night talk shows. It doesn’t matter how many soul mate friends may be out there for us if we never achieve any sort of propinquity with any of them; they won’t slink their way into our lives like fruit flies do to fruits unless we invite them. When we regularly place ourselves in physical proximity with others we can connect to, we are writing our own fate, acknowledging that we have control over our friendships, and upping our chances of connection.

One last reason why propinquity works is that we like people when we are exposed to them more and they become familiar to us. In the psychology world, this is called the “mere exposure effect,” since through merely being exposed to someone continuously, we come to like them.

You can harness the mere exposure effect by joining a continuous social event rather than a one-off one; it’s choosing book clubs over happy hours, or a language class over a language workshop. Propinquity also tells us to befriend people we already see often, maybe our neighbors, or our co-workers, or someone who lives close by. You can also make both propinquity and mere exposure work in your favor by becoming a regular at your local coffee shop, bar, or gym. Achieving regularity will make it more likely that others will feel positively toward you. On the other hand, mere exposure means that to make friends, you have to show up again and again.

We can initiate a conversation with strangers by using the insight and question method developed by David Hoffeld, CEO and chief sales trainer at Hoffeld Group. This involves simply sharing a statement or insight and asking a question to follow up. We might say, “I really loved the main character in the book we read for book club. What did you think about her?” or “This drink is so sweet and tastes so good. How do you like yours?” or “It’s been so long since I’ve been to the beach and I’m so glad to be here. What do you like about the beach?”

If you don’t have anybody who’s generous and loving and full of grace in your life, then go be that in somebody else’s life. It’s not about what you get. It’s about what you can contribute to this relationship. What can you bring as an offering? And that’s how community is built. It’s built on the offerings of the generous and the loving.”

Some people can talk about their bankruptcy, their chlamydia, their criminal history as if they’re asking a waiter for some baguette. For others, the idea of sharing this sort of information makes them sprout hives. The truth is, what feels vulnerable for us reveals something deeper about what we’ve learned to be ashamed of.

But was Sam’s error that she was too vulnerable—or maybe that she wasn’t vulnerable enough? Perhaps, if she asked for help more wholly—not just in a passing comment, but with her full feelings—she would get the help she needed. Her friend would sense that this was a great crisis for her and be more tender. None of us wants to be misunderstood, but when we downplay our feelings, we invite misunderstanding.

Suppressing vulnerability doesn’t abolish the weakness; it impedes us from practicing strength alongside it. There’s wisdom in letting ourselves acknowledge the weakness in vulnerability.

admitting to her weakness brought her closer to others: “An incredible bond is established between you and another person when you embrace your weakness. Transparency, honesty, and open communication win. I felt the flow of love between myself and those around me. It was uplifting and intoxicating; empowering and encouraging. It was love like I’d never seen it in action before—the type of love that can only be perfected in our very weaknesses.”