"Who would play me in the movie about my life?" I asked one of my closest friends, Alex, over brunch one Sunday in Brooklyn. Without missing a beat, he said, “Easy. A young Jeffrey Wright. Or maybe Sterling K. Brown—but, like, the indie film version of him.”

Not bad, I thought, sipping my third mimosa. But here’s the thing: If you’d asked me that question ten years ago, back when I was still figuring out who I was and what kind of people I wanted around me, I don’t think I’d have even known how to answer. My problem back then wasn’t figuring out my movie persona—it was this nagging sense that I didn’t have the right supporting cast.

Finding your people is part treasure hunt, part audition process, and part—let’s be honest—a dating-style series of awkward first conversations that don’t always land. But when you finally get it right? It’s like stepping into the warm spotlight of understanding. Here’s how I got there—and how you can, too.

The “Lonely Crowd” Years

Let’s rewind to my early 20s: freshly graduated from Yale, optimistic about conquering the literary world, but quietly wrestling with the itch to belong somewhere. I was living in Boston for grad school—Harvard to be precise—and feeling, ironically, out of sync with everyone around me. My cohort seemed to speak the language of corporate ambition fluently, while I still wanted to talk about Murakami, Brooklyn’s underground hip-hop scene, and why the word “sonder” felt so heartbreakingly human.

On paper, I was surrounded by brilliant people—future hedge fund managers, tech CEOs, and nonprofit stars. But was I connecting with them? Not so much. My nights were spent at networking mixers that felt like speed-dating for spreadsheets and CV-padding, while I secretly fantasized about grabbing a plane to Berlin and swapping it all for a rooftop wine chat with poets or DJs.

Here’s the thing about being surrounded by people who don’t “get” you: It’s lonely as hell. People don’t always talk about the ache of intellectual mismatch. It’s like trying to Tinder-date someone who looks great on paper but whose idea of good conversation is a 20-minute dissertation on Excel formulas. (Unless Excel is your jam—in which case, swipe right and find that love story!)

It took me a while to realize I wasn’t the problem. I just hadn’t found my community yet.

Knowing Your Own Frequency

One of the biggest mistakes people make when searching for connection is trying to tune in to someone else’s station. In relationships, in friendships, in social groups—it doesn’t matter. If you’re twisting yourself into a different version of you just to fit in, chances are it’s going to fall apart eventually. Worse, you might start to lose sight of what makes you… well, you.

For me, the turning point happened during a cultural exchange trip to Berlin. One night, as I sat in a crowded café with a group of twenty-somethings discussing the intersection of techno and modern philosophy (seriously), I realized, for the first time in forever, I wasn’t performing. I wasn’t awkwardly reshaping my edges to fit a space that wasn’t meant for me. It clicked: I thrive in conversations that blend curiosity, creativity, and a little bit of chaos. My people don’t just swap small talk—they want to dive into the deep end of life's big questions, laughing and questioning the playlist as we go.

Maybe for you, it's about finding people who obsess over anime, lead hiking meetups, or admit they cried during the last episode of The Bear (same). The point isn’t what excites you—it’s recognizing your unique frequency and honoring it unapologetically.

What I Had to Let Go

Before I could truly find my people, I had to break up—with my own assumptions.

For starters, I had to let go of the idea that friendships happen by accident or pure convenience. Too often, I defaulted to hanging onto relationships that were built on shared circumstances and not shared values. That college roommate we used to survive finals with? Amazing for dorm camaraderie, not so much when you’re out in the real world and realize you have nothing in common beyond that expensive degree.

I also had to quit saying “yes” out of guilt or habit. If you’re anything like me, you’ve RSVP’d to things you dread just because you didn't want anyone to feel rejected—even if attending meant sacrificing your own energy (and sometimes your sanity). It’s a sneaky kind of people-pleasing that eats away at your vibe.

Here’s what I realized: To meet the right people, I had to make room by gently letting go of the ones who weren’t adding what I needed to my life. Not in a dramatic, burn-all-the-bridges way—but respectfully and with love. Not every connection is meant to last forever, and that’s okay.

Building Your Own Tribe

Spoiler alert: My people didn’t just materialize in Berlin (though, full disclosure, some did). The rest? I found through deliberate, sometimes uncomfortable, trial and error. These days, I call Brooklyn home, and my tribe reflects the beautifully eclectic energy of this city. Some are creatives, some work 9-to-5 gigs but moonlight as musicians or activists. A surprising number are avid board-game players, even though I continuously lose to them at Catan (I maintain wheat shouldn’t be this powerful).

So, how do you get there? Here’s what worked for me—and what might work for you:

  1. Follow the Vibes
    Attend events and activities that genuinely excite you. Be the person who goes to a comedy show solo or RSVPs to that knitting circle, even if you don’t know anyone yet. Authentic spaces attract authentic people.

  2. Give It the “Gut Check” Test
    After spending time with someone, check in with yourself: Did that energy leave you feeling drained or recharged? You don’t need to psychoanalyze every interaction, but paying attention to this gut instinct can be game-changing.

  3. Embrace the Weirdness
    Lean into the quirks that make you you. I used to stress about hiding my obsession with obscure Japanese literature or my love of ‘90s R&B ballads. Now? My friends send me memes about it. That kind of connection? Unmatched.

  4. Stop Overthinking the “Cool” Factor
    If I judged potential friends by their Instagram aesthetic or their ability to name-drop books they’ve probably never actually read, I’d have missed out on some incredible relationships. Don’t confuse “cool” with real. Real wins every time.

  5. Be a Connector, Not Just a Collector
    Friendships thrive on reciprocity. Don’t just focus on making friends—help others find their people, too. Invite different circles to mingle, connect folks with similar interests, and watch the magic happen.

The Beauty of Belonging

Fast forward to now, and I can honestly say I’ve found my people. They’re not perfect (and neither am I), but we fit in all the messy, magnificent ways that matter. Together, we celebrate wins, mourn losses, and spend hours debating pop culture hot takes like, “Is it time to retire the Friends-versus-Seinfeld war?” (The answer: yes).

If you’re still searching, know this: Finding your people isn’t about impressing anyone or chasing some idealized notion of community. It’s about showing up authentically and trusting that the connections you crave will meet you in the places you're meant to be.

Your people are out there, waiting. So go find them. And if you need a brunch recommendation? Call me.