When I first moved to Vancouver, I romanticized the idea of “finding my people.” I pictured long cafe afternoons filled with laughter, late-night talks about art and the human condition, and spontaneous karaoke sessions no one would admit to the next morning. Instead, my first month felt like eating wasabi straight from the jar—a slow, burning discomfort of too many “networking” events fueled by awkward small talk and wilted celery sticks.
It turns out finding your community as an adult isn’t all that different from modern dating. It’s uncertain, occasionally reveals deep insecurities, and sometimes involves bad decisions—like signing up for a meditation circle led by a guy named Cosmic Dave. But just like in relationships, with time, effort, and a little trial-and-error, your tribe does come into focus. Here’s the roadmap I wish someone had handed me along the way.
Step 1: Start with Self-Awareness—Who Are You, Really?
Much like dating, finding your people means starting with yourself. As I packed my bags for Vancouver, I told myself I’d be the perfect extrovert—a bubbly, network-savvy type who’d charm a room without spilling her matcha latte. Spoiler alert: It didn’t happen. At my core, I’m an introvert who thrives in small, meaningful settings where conversations go beyond the surface.
Take stock of what really fulfills you—be it book clubs over bar crawls or Sunday hikes instead of Friday parties. The world tells us to “put ourselves out there,” but you don’t have to shout from a rooftop to be seen. Begin by leaning into who you already are.
Questions to ask yourself:
- What kinds of conversations energize me?
- What activities make me feel connected?
- Do I prefer intimate settings or larger, buzzing circles?
Defining who you are is like selecting an outfit for a date—find the one that feels good, true, and authentically you.
Step 2: Reimagine “The Meet-Cute”
I used to think meeting new friends required a grand friendship-version of the rom-com "meet-cute"—bumping into someone at the art museum gift shop, both buying the same obscure postmodern poetry collection. While I did make one lovely acquaintance in the museum world (a curator obsessed with Yayoi Kusama, if you’re curious), most connections happened a little less poetically and through persistence.
Consider this: friendship can grow in unlikely ways. I once joined a monthly cooking class under the assumption I’d bond over soufflés. Instead, it was my failed attempt at sushi-making next to a retired botanist that sparked an enduring bond. The lesson? Get out there, not necessarily for the activity, but for the openness it creates.
Where to look for your tribe:
- Volunteer groups that champion causes you care about.
- Community classes (ceramics, dance, coding—whatever you’ve been curious about).
- Shared interest forums or meetups (yes, the internet can be magic sometimes).
The key isn’t perfection. It’s proximity. Being in a space with like-minded people plants the seeds for connection; they just need time to grow.
Step 3: Embrace the Art of “Friendship Flirting”
You know that slightly awkward “hey, I think you’re cool” moment early in dating? Turns out, making friends is eerily similar. Asking another adult something like, “Want to grab coffee sometime?” can feel excruciatingly direct, but honestly, most people respond well to genuine interest. (The same as they would if your smile said, “I like you” instead of “My dentist is holding me hostage with this grin.”)
The trick is to lean into what I call “friendship flirting.” It’s subtle but obvious enough to avoid falling into the dreaded acquaintance zone. And yes, this might mean initiating plans. When one of my acquaintances suggested a silent film night at a local outdoor cinema, my instinct was hesitance. (“How well do I even know her?”) But I went, and somewhere between sharing stale popcorn and riffing on subtitles, we bonded over a love for vintage aesthetics and dad jokes.
Friendly gestures to win people over:
- Share a recommendation—books, recipes, or TV shows show you’re thoughtful.
- Be the first to text or follow up after meeting someone you vibe with.
- Revisit an inside joke moment (referencing your shared laugh about that awful sushi might go further than you think).
Think of it as conversation ping pong; just keep the volley going.
Step 4: Look for Depth, Not Quantity
It’s tempting to think that “finding your people” equals a full social calendar or a sprawling circle of Instagrammable friendships. But honestly, meaningful connection isn’t about the numbers; it’s about the richness of what you share. I’ve learned this the hard way. For six months, I became a serial attendee of happy hours, book launches, and workshops but often left feeling... disconnected.
The breakthrough came when I stopped chasing breadth and focused on depth. I didn’t need twenty acquaintances; I needed two or three steady friends who saw me, truly. When I met Mika through a Japanese expat event, we immediately connected over missing home. Our chats became doors to vulnerable spaces—grief, creativity, hopes left unspoken. Five years later, she’s still my person for late-night existential texts and holiday miso soup experiments.
So, spend more time with fewer people, and watch those newfound relationships deepen.
Step 5: Know It’s Okay to Outgrow Some Circles
As much as finding the right people feels like magic, friendships (like romantic relationships) can shift. Maybe your once-tight midnight-snack crew now prefers daytime brunches, and you’ve become a specialist in midnight snacks. That’s okay. Community is dynamic—it evolves as you grow.
When I moved to Paris for research years ago, I was terrified that leaving one group would mean starting over. But the reality? The bonds that mattered stayed alive, spanning time zones and email chains. Others faded naturally but gracefully, leaving me with gratitude instead of guilt.
Don’t be afraid to prune your social garden. The connections meant to last can withstand periods of drought, while others bloom only briefly—and that’s what makes them special.
Step 6: Celebrate the Messy Process
There’s no definitive timeline for discovering your community. It may take months or even years. Like dating, there’s trial, error, and those underwhelming moments (I see you, weirdly intense book club). But when you find your people? It feels like a blind date that turns into love. You’ll spend hours laughing about everything and nothing, sharing the kind of synchronicity that doesn’t just happen—it’s cultivated.
And isn’t that the beauty of connection? It isn’t always seamless, but it’s worth the small missteps, the quiet moments, and the conscious choices to lean in when a spark begins to flicker.
At the end of the day, finding your people isn’t about achieving some Pinterest-worthy social life; it’s about finding those who let you be unapologetically you. And when you do? Everything clicks, like finally learning your favorite Ryuichi Sakamoto piano piece by heart. It’s imperfect, but it’s home.