Warwick, 2010. My first day at my new university. Everything about me is new, from my shiny boots to my fire-engine red trench coat to my newfound anxiety about making friends in this strange country where I have come to do my master's in creative writing.
I have decided to put my best multicultural foot forward and make as many non-Indian friends as possible. So I studiously avoid the probably-Indian girl—let’s call her X—that I see in my peripheral vision, who is indiscriminately flashing her dimples all around. I recognise the message intended by that 1,000-watt smile: “I am chill, confident and drunk on life, exactly the kind of girl you would want to hang out with.” I recognise it because that is exactly the same message I am trying to send myself, minus the dimples. She, too, is avoiding me, but like leaky fishing nets, our smiles and ‘come hither’ vibes do not really reel anyone in. Resigned, we make our way to each other, thus laying the foundation of a friendship based more on performance than preference, desperation than compatibility.
And then, to our surprise, a third girl joins us—a Singaporean beauty who I’ll call Y. Since we were all desperately trying to inveigle our way into the ‘in’ crowd at university, we decided our chances were better if we joined forces and tried together. Thus began a friendship that livened my time in the UK and lubricated its tough spots.
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We travelled across Europe together, failed the popularity test together, badmouthed the Brits behind their back together and got conned at music festivals together. We were the quintessential Asian ‘losers’ wallowing in our misery together and having a heck of a time doing it.
Cut to today. Except for the occasional updates on their social media feeds, I’ve lost touch with my two comrades-in-anguish. Last I heard, X was working at a reputed children’s magazine in Mumbai and Y was married with two kids (something we swore not to do because conventionality is so uncool).
In the city where I live now, I have a few close friends. Of course, there are a few hi-bye friends whom I meet for the occasional breakfast or brunch. But not the kind with whom I can discuss my deepest flaws, fears and fantasies.
With these friends, I never go beyond talking about the latest hang-out spots in the city (where we never end up hanging out) or the latest New York Times best-sellers (which we never end up reading). We always leave with plans to meet again ‘soon’ and then end up meeting the next year, when we again discuss the new hang-out spots or the second parts of books of whose first parts we have not read. Do you know how exhausting it is to look happy all the time?
My theory is that I am finding it so much more difficult to make friends in my 30s because I’ve lost my youthful desperation. As I grow older, I’m displaying all the classic tendencies of loner-hood. Netflix-and-chilling minus the chilling? Tick. Preferring romance novels to actual romance? Tick. Not being afraid to go alone to the movies? Tick.
One reason it is so difficult to make friends as you age is perhaps because we have less time to invest in friendships as we grow busy with families and careers. And time to a friendship is like tequila to a tequila sunrise: invaluable.
What science says:
A study published in the Journal of Social & Personal Relationships calculated that, on average, it takes about 50 hours with someone before you consider them a casual friend and 200 hours to become close friends. The researchers say that Americans only spend about 41 minutes a day socialising, which is one-third of the time they spend on watching TV.
It might also be wise to invest in deep friendships rather than superficial ones, because according to the social brain hypothesis, a person can have only a certain number of friends. This is because of the limited volume of the brain’s neocortex, which limits your recollection of information, events and past interactions with someone, thereby hampering your ability to make too many intimate connections.
But investing in these connections are essential. Dr Marisa G. Franco, author of the New York Times bestseller Platonic: How the Science of Attachment Can Help You Make—and Keep—Friends, says that there is a great synergy between your sense of self and your relationships with others.
According to the attachment theory, she explains in a podcast, our personality is fundamentally a reflection of our relationships. People who have had good relationships have a positive sense of self, which then helps them develop more satisfying relationships.
So that is why my New Year’s Resolution this year is to make more friends. As a first step, I have invited two acquaintances over for dinner. I’m already sweating over what we will talk about. As a backup, I have formed a list of the best hangout spots in the city. If nothing else, I can always put forward Dr Marisa’s book, which, of course, I have not read.