The Ones That Got Away

Why it's important to reach out.

Picture this: you are a first-year student in a packed tutorial, Freshers’ Week has just ended. Still feeling like you’ve been hit by a social lightning bolt, conferring all manner of superpowers onto you, you still expect everybody to be as open to making friends as they were on day one. You exchange a few names, maybe the process appears to be beginning. But then, the tutorial ends; there’s an awkward moment where socializing is attempted, but it fails before you all leave and nothing more is said. For the next four years, you will see these people, and it is far from improbable — in fact, it’s likely — that you will exchange little more in future than a polite nod and an agreeable wave. This represents, by far, the most confusing aspect of friendship culture in this town — connections that, for no reason at all, were left to waste away.

I have many of these ambiguous friendships running; there are some people I’ve been waving and nodding to for so long that not only can I not remember the sound of their voice, nor where we met in the first place. Maybe at some point in the past, the wave-nod combo was a promise of some future getting-to-know-you-better moment, but after a year or two the wave-nod takes on a life of its own. Having asked around, it appears that the resounding response to this problem is a half-hearted shrug; most of the people I talked to just didn’t seem too bothered by the prospect of stagnant relationships. 

Here’s why I have trouble letting these sleeping dogs I’m acquainted with lie: university helped me learn I was not a born hermit. I went from being someone with a few, deeply held friendships, to someone who was suddenly capable of maintaining a wider social network — and enjoying it at the same time. My former self prioritized knowing someone deeply — taking an initial curiosity, and pursuing it until a relationship that runs deep is established; my newer self demands to find many acquaintances sufficient, to let the curiosity around the possibility of a meaningful connection dissipate. At the intersection between these two forms of socializing, I find stagnant relationships incredibly difficult — what’s the point of all the small talk if it leads to nothing? But then, is it acceptable to be more assertive and intentional — how do you ask a potential friend to coffee? For some people I spoke to, an intentional approach to making a friend did seem a little overbearing. 

I’m inclined to argue, however, that this instinct against what feels too assertive and overbearing comes from insecurity and suspicion. It’s not unheard of for people to reach out to those they think would make good friends, but something in that feels cheap. It feels like any friendship formed with explicit intention and drive is doomed to be a LinkedIn exclusive. If someone asks you out on a date, you assume they seek genuine and wholehearted emotional connection; if someone asks you to be their friend, you might be so charitable as to assume the same, but I’d venture to argue that it’s less likely. Somehow, bringing this kind of procedure and ceremony into the world of friendship feels desperate — even though connection is what humans are said to desire most. During especially vulnerable times, such as Freshers’ Week, everybody admits this desperation to themselves and others: they want friends and connection, and they want them fast. After feeling satisfied that they are secured, though, they close up — the social tools are put back in the box, and the possibility of creating relationships moving forward becomes ever smaller. 

I think this is natural, but I also think acting against this instinct can sometimes yield results. I start waving and nodding to people because I’m interested in knowing them, and I think recentering that interest is incredibly important: it reminds me to reach out, to remain open to the possibility of genuine kindness and genuine connection despite being content with my social circumstances. Creating community and friendships will likely never be this accessible again — this town is almost entirely made up of potential friends, a cast of characters with whom it is plausible to create relationships. We just have to put in the work to destigmatise, and eventually adopt, a more assertive way of keeping a connection alive.

Image from Wikimedia Commons