Friendship Is Choices
Last Wednesday, I walked into a comedy club for my birthday.
By the end of the night, I was surrounded by 30 friends I didn't know would be there.
Emily had planned the whole thing. Friends just kept appearing. The night before Thanksgiving, one of the busiest travel days of the year, and 30 people showed up. For me.
I kept thinking: how did this happen?
Not the party — Emily handled that. I mean the friendships.
Looking back, I can trace almost every person in that room to a moment where I said yes, even when sometimes I wasn't feeling it.
My Friend Nick Gray
We met in 2017 at a conference in Austin. When he found out I lived in New York, he invited me to a cocktail party at his apartment the following week.
I said yes, more out of politeness than anything.
Here's the thing: the me who agrees to a party and the me who has to actually show up are two completely different people. Unfortunately, I am both of them.
It's like when I'm boarding a red-eye at 5:45am thinking, "What psychopath booked this flight?" Oh right. I did.
So yes, the day of Nick's party, I wanted to kill past-me. Fellow introverts, you know exactly what I mean.
Who has a cocktail party in their one-bedroom apartment these days?
The night of the party, I showed up to a fourth-floor walk-up. By the second flight, I was regretting my decision. By the fourth, I was out of breath and fully committed to leaving early. Then I got to the door and had to take my shoes off before going inside.
At this point, I'm standing in my socks, sweaty from the subway and stairs, in a stranger's apartment, surrounded by people I don't know. Every part of me wanted to Irish exit immediately.
But I was in a season of pushing myself — seeing a movie alone for the first time, attending events where I knew no one, leaning into discomfort that might actually be good for me.
So I stayed.
I went in with the lowest of expectations. It became one of my favorite nights in New York. I still talk to a couple of people I met there. Years later.
Now Nick and I both live in Austin. He's one of my closest friends.
That friendship exists because I walked up four flights of stairs, took off my shoes, and stayed when every part of me wanted to leave.
Why This Matters
📚 Research corner: Researchers call it the "friendship recession." In 1990, only 3% of Americans said they had no close friends. By 2021, that number hit 12%.
More ways to connect than ever. Lonelier than ever.
One study found that believing friendship happens by luck led to more loneliness five years later. Believing it takes effort? Less loneliness.
Effort. Not luck.
That's what I saw at my birthday. Years of uncomfortable yeses adding up.
The internet as a bridge
Here's what I've noticed about my Austin friendships: most started on the internet.
We found each other in weird corners online, bonding over nerdy stuff. Then we actually met. In person. Regularly.
I watch Quinn make friends. She sees a kid at the park and walks up: "Want to play?" No calendar negotiation. No "we should hang out sometime" that never happens. Just: want to play?
Adults overcomplicate this. But the internet gives us a version of it back. You can find your people online, the ones into the same weird stuff you're into, and then actually see them.
That's not replacing real connection with screens. That's using screens as a bridge to real connection.
The Friendship Audit
Most advice focuses on goals and productivity which of course I’m a fan of (obviously).
But I'd add this: audit your friendships.
I don’t mean this in a cold, calculating way. More like an honest look at where your relationship energy actually went.
- Who showed up? Not liked your posts. Not texted "thinking of you." Who actually showed up when it mattered?
- Who did you show up for? Friendship is reciprocal. Where did you invest your presence, not just your attention?
- Where's the gap? Is there someone you've been meaning to reach out to? Someone you keep saying "we should hang out" to but never do?
The research is clear: believing friendship takes effort leads to less loneliness. Believing it happens by luck leads to more.
Effort. Not luck.
Your action: Send one specific invitation today. Not "let's get together sometime." Something real: "Drinks Thursday?" "Coffee Saturday?" "Want to come over this weekend?"
If you did a friendship audit of the last year, who would make the list?
Is there anyone you wish was on it?
📚 Reading Corner
Nick (the one from the birthday story) wrote a book a few years ago called The 2-Hour Cocktail Party. After experiencing what a well-run party can do for connection, I finally read it. It's a quick read, but over 1000 people have hosted parties since reading it.
Here's to finding your people and actually seeing them.
