How Do You Find Your True Friends?
Take an inventory of people you'd call your friends and ask: How did you find each other?
The other week there was a fascinating piece in The New York Times about the difficulties in forging strong, lasting friendships once we hit our 30s and 40s. It struck me as strange in that most of my strongest bonds began when I hit my 30s and 40s.
My life may not be typical. I was usually the fifth wheel in school. Our family moved frequently with my father's job, but we didn't live in military communities where there were lots of transients. So I normally had to find a clique to infiltrate. But with no personal history, I was forever the outsider valued by the group mainly for my brain. In other words, I stayed in good standing so long as I allowed people to cheat off me during test and term paper seasons. There are a few exceptions, of course. I was recently invited to a very old and dear friend's 50th birthday party from high school.
My college friendships, grouted by crazy deadlines and drunken weekends, were cleaved by sororities and serious boyfriends. And I hit all the major young adult milestones - marriage and a full family - years earlier than my peers, so our lives went in different directions fairly quickly after my first job.
I realize now that a lot of the great friendships I currently have arose from running. Either we met in a training group, a race, the track club or online. These are good friends, the kind that cut to the chase in conversations, have wildly different perspectives and opinions they love to share. In some cases, we don't even have running in common anymore, and yet I know if I call them in the middle of the night, they'll respond. And they kind of keep me in check, making me aware of annoying habits or outlandish claims without actually calling me out. I love that. I love them.
The other week there was a fascinating piece in The New York Times about the difficulties in forging strong, lasting friendships once we hit our 30s and 40s. It struck me as strange in that most of my strongest bonds began when I hit my 30s and 40s.
My life may not be typical. I was usually the fifth wheel in school. Our family moved frequently with my father's job, but we didn't live in military communities where there were lots of transients. So I normally had to find a clique to infiltrate. But with no personal history, I was forever the outsider valued by the group mainly for my brain. In other words, I stayed in good standing so long as I allowed people to cheat off me during test and term paper seasons. There are a few exceptions, of course. I was recently invited to a very old and dear friend's 50th birthday party from high school.
My college friendships, grouted by crazy deadlines and drunken weekends, were cleaved by sororities and serious boyfriends. And I hit all the major young adult milestones - marriage and a full family - years earlier than my peers, so our lives went in different directions fairly quickly after my first job.
I realize now that a lot of the great friendships I currently have arose from running. Either we met in a training group, a race, the track club or online. These are good friends, the kind that cut to the chase in conversations, have wildly different perspectives and opinions they love to share. In some cases, we don't even have running in common anymore, and yet I know if I call them in the middle of the night, they'll respond. And they kind of keep me in check, making me aware of annoying habits or outlandish claims without actually calling me out. I love that. I love them.
