Anyone Want to Talk Inner Lives?

Let's talk for a minute about trying to make friends as an adult. Why is it so fucking hard? Is it me? Because I like me, but I am finding making friends to be very difficult. 

I was talking to my therapist about it today. She asked "do you find people in Westchester to be welcoming?" The use of the word "welcoming" was interesting. Are they friendly? Yes. But are they welcoming? ...Not really. Everyone seems to already have established their friend group, and they don't need any new members. 

This is how I felt when I moved to New York at the age of 22. I expected the situation I encountered when I started college - a large group of people who had just moved there and were open to and excited about making close friends. But when I got to New York, I realized that everyone already had their friends. A lot of people had moved there WITH their friends. What?! No one told me that was an option, let alone common. 

My therapist has lived in Westchester for her entire life, so I appreciated her input when she told me that people here are cliquey. Thank you. They are cliquey. 

A few weeks ago, a friend and I went to a local hotel on a Sunday night to get a drink and celebrate her recent work promotion. When we arrived, I saw three kids from my son's preschool class jumping on a couch in the lobby. I turned around and noticed their parents, who were all there having dinner together. I did not know one of the sets of parents. (Or, I should say, I don't know their real names. At my house, we just call them "hot dad" and "hot dad's wife.") However, two of the families recently came to my house for my son's birthday party and stayed for hours. I thought we had a really nice time. And yet, here they all were hanging out without me. 

I felt stung, and yet, I would not have gone if they had invited me. I do not want to take my kids to a nice restaurant on a Sunday night. I would end up trying to talk them into eating their overpriced food, and I wouldn't be able to carry on a conversation without interruptions. I wouldn't have any fun. I want to put them to bed and then go meet one to three other adult women. Once there, I don't want to discuss my kids for hours on end. I want to share one or two funny or frustrating things, and then I want to talk about the things that interest me, like breaking intergenerational trauma and whether breath work really works and how to be creative when you work and parent. Is that so hard? 

Apparently it is.