Somewhere between binge-watching Insecure for the third time and pondering the absurdity of group texts that never lead to actual plans (looking at you, Monica), I had an epiphany: finding your people as an adult is harder than finding good Tex-Mex in Washington, D.C. Sure, I was lucky enough to grow up in a loving family, attend inspiring schools, and form a few lifelong friendships. But adulthood has a sneaky way of scattering everyone to the winds—one minute you’re laughing over happy hour nachos, and the next, someone’s moving to Denver for “the hiking scene.”

What I learned on this journey, though, is that finding your tribe isn’t about numbers or instant connection—it’s about cultivating relationships that feel like home. Let’s walk through how I went from feeling like an extra in my own life to surrounding myself with the kind of people who lift me up. If you’ve ever wondered where your forever-friends are hiding, grab a cup of something warm (or wine—this is a safe space) and let’s get into it.

The Crash-and-Burn of My First Attempts

When I first moved back to Dallas, full of post-MFA dreams and a borderline unhealthy number of iced latte receipts, I was certain I’d seamlessly fall into the perfect friend group. I mean, I had all the ingredients: a love for deep conversations, a semi-decent collection of house plants, and a staunch belief in Beyoncé’s flawless divinity. Yet, my early attempts at friend-finding were, frankly, tragic.

There was the book club where people actually argued over whether they “believed” in audiobooks. (Spoiler: I ran out of there faster than a bad Tinder date.) The yoga class that ended up being more about intense planking competitions than inner peace. And let’s not forget a friend mixer where the vibe was less The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants and more “friendly networking event you dress up for but secretly hate.”

Each time I failed to click with someone—or got ghosted by a potential pal—I found myself retreating that much more. It turns out, friendship rejection stings just as much as romantic fallout.

Level-Setting: What Finding “Your People” Really Means

Here’s where I messed up: I kept trying to appeal to large groups, hoping I’d somehow be dubbed the next Mindy Kaling of the crew and instantly adored. However, if there’s one lesson adulthood has taught me (besides never underestimate the power of neutral nails), it’s that relationships thrive on quality, not quantity.

Your people are the ones who truly see you—the raw, no-makeup, slightly-broken-but-still-trying you. They celebrate your little victories (like successfully parallel parking) and also hang out on the days when your idea of fun is folding laundry and oversharing about your childhood trauma.

It took some major reevaluating on my part to stop chasing these idealized friendships and start seeking meaningful connections. The key? Getting really honest about the kind of relationships I wanted and being equally honest about the energy I was bringing to them.

Step 1: Ditch the Cool-Girl Act

You know that scene in The DUFF where Mae Whitman’s character realizes she’s spent half her life pretending to be something she’s not? That was me, trying to impress potential friends by downplaying my love for vintage bookstore hauls or my unhealthy obsession with pimiento cheese sandwiches. Friendship is about showing up authentically—you can’t expect someone to vibe with you if they don’t even know the real you.

Once I gave myself permission to be messy and sincere, something shifted. I stopped worrying about whether people found my oversized sweaters “fun” or flinching when I casually mentioned that I cry every time I hear Al Green’s “Let’s Stay Together.” Newsflash: real friendships are built on shared quirks and vulnerabilities, not jazzed-up perfection.

Step 2: Find Your Niche (AKA “Your Room Where It Happens”)

Much like dating, finding friends often comes down to shared interests. I had to push myself to seek out spaces where people were excited about the same things I loved. This wasn’t about forcing hobbies I hated (trust me, I am not cut out for spin classes) but rediscovering what lit me up and made me feel alive. For me, this meant:

  • Joining a Black women’s writing group: Imagine sipping coffee and swapping stories with a circle of creative, hilarious queens who also casually drop Toni Morrison references—absolute heaven.
  • Volunteering with a social justice organization: Connecting with people who cared deeply about racial equity gave me a renewed sense of purpose and camaraderie.
  • Commiting to old friendships: Sometimes your tribe isn’t new—it’s people you’ve known forever, but with whom you’ve gone out of orbit. Reinvest in these connections with meaningful check-ins.

Admittedly, it was scary to put myself out there (especially when I’m 98% sure my first attempt at sharing poetry went…let’s just say misunderstood). But the more genuine I was about my passions, the more I discovered people who were just as geeked out about life’s little joys as I was.

Step 3: Drop the Ego, Pick Up the Phone

Here’s an uncomfortable truth: adult friendships don’t happen unless you actually make an effort. I realized the hard way that no one’s sitting at home thinking, “Wow, Ebony seems cool. I bet she’d love an impromptu coffee invite.”

If I wanted these connections to grow, I had to show up—literally. I started scheduling FaceTimes with friends who lived in other cities, making it a priority to RSVP “yes” to local events (even when leaving my cozy apartment sounded like punishment), and reminding myself to take the first step in keeping conversations alive.

Pro tip: Sending a simple “I was thinking about you” text might sound too small to matter, but it can crack open even the most dormant friendship. Magic lives in showing up without needing a reason.

Step 4: Redefine Community

Sometimes the people who root for you aren’t the ones you expected. When I was going through a tough personal season—grappling with career hurdles, family stress, and feeling creatively stuck—it wasn’t always my inner circle that showed up. It was the kind barista at my local coffee shop who learned my name and started recommending books. It was the older neighbor who offered wise advice on “breaking bad habits” (hers happened to be reality TV, mine was overthinking).

Community doesn’t have to fit into a tidy Instagram grid. It’s the people you connect with randomly, who step into your life for a reason or a season. Don’t measure support by proximity—sometimes it finds you in the most unexpected ways.

Keep Going, Even When It’s Awkward

The truth about “finding your people” is that it’s less about discovery and more about cultivation. You find them piece by piece in the small moments—when someone laughs at your weird sense of humor or when you finally feel safe enough to share your messier truths. Friendships, like plants, take sunlight, effort, and occasional repotting—which is to say: patience.

If you’re still searching, don’t give up. Take risks, be yourself, and remember that no matter what stage of life you’re in, there’s room for the connections that matter. And who knows? The next time you bump into someone at a bookstore or awkwardly confess your karaoke go-to is Ain’t No Mountain High Enough, it might lead to something beautiful.

Keep planting seeds, and trust me, your garden will grow.