Ever feel like you’re wandering through a desert with only a vague map in search of your people—those magical humans who get you, support you, laugh and cry with you? Yeah, same. I’ve been there. Growing up on the Navajo Nation, I learned the importance of community early on—how it can ground you, uplift you, and sometimes (lovingly) call you out when needed. But moving away for college and setting out into the wider world had me realizing that finding “your people” in new surroundings isn’t always as simple as pulling up to a family potluck.

Spoiler alert: you can find your people. And maybe you’re closer than you think. Let me take you through how I went from feeling adrift to finding my tribe—nay, tribes—in all stages of my journey.

When You’re a Cactus in a Pine Forest

Picture this: a rez kid in layers of turquoise jewelry, driving cross-country to attend a liberal arts college in Vermont. The campus was like a Wes Anderson movie, full of Patagonia jackets and maple syrup. Nobody had heard of mutton stew or frybread. I looked around and thought: “Yep, I’m a cactus in a pine forest.”

But here’s the thing about transplanting yourself into unfamiliar territory: it teaches you what kind of care you need to grow. Sure, I bonded with my anthropology classmates over late-night Taco Bell runs, but I also actively reached out to cultural organizations. Joining the Native Student Alliance was huge. Suddenly, I wasn’t just “the only Diné girl in the room” anymore. I had a safe space to share stories and laugh about inside jokes (like how every rez family has at least one “Chevy that doesn’t work but still has three visitors”). Lesson one? Seek out groups where you feel seen—they’re often closer than you think.

People, Assemble!

Okay, so let’s say there’s no ready-made group for you, or you’re tired of the ones you’re in. That’s cool. Your people might not be obvious at first—they’re not going to wear matching T-shirts that read, Hey, We Exist for You! You need to assemble them, piece by piece. Kind of like the Avengers, but your version might feature a game-night enthusiast, a karaoke wizard, someone who gives sage dating advice, and, let’s be real, a dog that makes everyone’s day better.

When I returned to the Southwest after graduation, reconnecting with pieces of my identity was key to finding my people again. I attended weaving circles hosted by Diné elders and volunteered at community events. Yes, I sometimes felt shy walking into a room of strangers, but my inner voice reminded me: You come from people who survived the Long Walk. You can handle a potluck where you only know one person. Say yes to invitations, put yourself in spaces that align with your values, and watch your own Avenger squad grow.

Be Willing to Shed Some Snake Skin

The painful truth? Not everyone is your person—and that’s okay. Hanging onto relationships that don’t feel right is like wearing shoes two sizes too small. Sometimes, you’ve got to Marie Kondo your connections and let go of what doesn’t spark joy.

For example, I once joined a Portland book club that sounded dreamy—think artisanal cheese platters and deep dives into contemporary fiction. I knew after the third meeting, though, that these weren’t my people. It was less “let’s geek out over literature” and more “who can sound the smartest while discussing dystopias?” Abruptly exiting a group—whether it’s a friend circle or a romantic relationship—can feel awkward, but trust me, it’s worth it. By making room in your life, you leave space for the connections that actually align with you.

The Lost Art of Showing Up

Here’s a crazy idea: finding your people also involves being someone else’s person. Radical, right? No one tells you this in adulthood, but showing up builds community like nothing else. I’m not saying you have to be the next Oprah, coaching everyone through life’s messiest moments. But making that check-in text, signing up for a friend’s hiking plan (even though you hate breaking a sweat), or offering a shoulder to cry on—it all matters.

I remember one brutal December in Oregon when loneliness creepily set in like the Pacific mist. Instead of wallowing, I texted a friend who had just moved to town. “Wanna try making fancy hot cocoa and watch rom-coms?” That single gesture bloomed into a small, motley crew of cocoa-and-rom-com lovers who still laugh about burning our first batch of peppermint bark. The lesson? Be what you need from others. Connection starts with kindness.

A Few Nuggets of Wisdom for Your Journey

  • Be open, but keep your boundaries. Sure, you may bond over a mutual love of karaoke, but if things start to get draining (like when someone consistently makes it all about them), it’s okay to walk away.
  • Follow the sparks. If something gives you a tiny zing of “oooh,” listen to that feeling. It could be an art class, a hiking group, or a cooking workshop—to name a few. Curiosity is the neon sign leading you to your people.
  • Diversity is strength. Your people don’t have to be carbon copies of you. Some of my closest friends range wildly in age, background, and interests. They enrich my life in ways I didn’t see coming.

You, Me, and Us

At its core, finding your people is really about rediscovering yourself. When you show up authentically—whether that’s through humor, quiet strength, geeky passion, or a little bit of all three—you’ll naturally attract others who vibe with that. It’s not a quick process (dating apps won’t do this one for you), but it’s worth the effort. Besides, when you do finally stumble upon your people, the first thing you’ll wonder is, “How did I survive without you?”

So, here’s my wish for you: may you find the people who laugh at your dad jokes, challenge you during hard conversations, and hold you close when the world feels overwhelming. And more importantly, may you find those things in yourself, too.

Now, go forth and assemble your tribe—your world just got a little less lonely.