Let me start with a confession: I’m the kind of person who thought I could go it alone for way too long. Not in a “gritty lone wolf surviving the apocalypse” dramatic sort of way—more like a “Sure, I can haul a sofa up three flights of stairs by myself” level of unnecessary self-reliance. Spoiler alert: that sofa got wedged in the stairwell, and I got stuck too, until a neighbor walked by, laughed, and lent a hand. It wasn’t my proudest moment, but it did get me thinking: why do we resist asking for help when it comes to finding our people?
Spoiler alert #2: Life isn’t a one-person show. It’s more like an ensemble cast where everyone brings different energy, quirks, and opinions about where to order takeout. And as I learned the hard way (more on that later), finding your people—a supportive community of friends, chosen family, or that weirdly tight-knit book club that only half reads the books—is worth the effort.
Here’s how my journey unfolded and what I learned about finding the kind of people who just get you.
Act I: Pretending to Be Fine on My Own
I was born and raised in Toronto, a city known for its diversity, skyline, and people who apologize when you bump into them (seriously, try it). Growing up, I had plenty of friends, but I never gave much thought to the idea of a “tribe” because "why overthink friendship?" seemed like sound 12-year-old wisdom. Besides, my parents taught me independence. They were tech entrepreneurs with schedules tighter than my jeans after a late-night poutine run. I liked forging my own path—it felt ambitious, empowered, even cool.
Fast-forward to my 20s, and I was a freshly minted English Lit grad trying to “make it” in writing. I was juggling freelance gigs, writing for a big-name newspaper, and exploring the odd, lovely chaos that is Toronto life. But in carving a niche for myself professionally, I’d forgotten to carve out space for connection. I’d say yes to assignments, new projects, and networking events, but no to happy hours or Sunday brunches. Pro tip: Being so “busy” that you ghost your friends isn’t a personality trait. It’s just you choosing stress over connection.
Things came to a breaking point after my first move to Vancouver for a collaborative writing project. New city, no job security, and that nagging feeling I’d made a terrible mistake—all while seagulls squawked mockingly in the background. I was lonely, but I told myself it was fine because I at least had “goals” (and overpriced avocado toast). Spoiler alert #3: Loneliness doesn’t care about your ambition.
Act II: The Humbling Realization
The turning point came unexpectedly, during a rainy day in Vancouver (is there any other kind?). I’d joined a local writer’s collective, hoping to meet like-minded people and possibly, you know, discuss symbolism over craft beer. What I didn’t expect was to find genuine connection with other creatives who offered encouragement instead of competition.
For the first time in years, I shared my writing with zero filters, bracing myself for criticism. Instead, one of the mentors said, “This feels like you. Like really you.” A lightbulb went off: we all need people who remind us of our best selves—and call us out when we’re faking it.
Beyond the collective, I started saying yes to more opportunities, even when they felt awkward or inconvenient. Group hikes, impromptu game nights, a karaoke session where I butchered “Summer of ’69” but still got a standing ovation—it all felt new and a little vulnerable. The biggest surprise? Those moments of vulnerability created connection faster than any perfectly polished persona ever could.
Act III: Building My Own Crew
When I moved back to Toronto, I was determined to bring the lessons I’d learned in Vancouver home with me. Finding your people isn’t about luck; it’s about intention. And sometimes, it’s about letting go of who you think you need to be to impress others. For those still searching, here’s what I’ve learned:
1. Get Comfortable with Being Uncomfortable
Much like first dates and job interviews, meeting new people isn’t always smooth sailing. There will be awkward silences, mismatched vibes, or the cousin of your college roommate who insists crypto is the future. That’s okay. Lean into the temporary discomfort—it’s often the first step to meaningful connection.
2. Try the “Two Feet” Rule
This one’s cheesy but solid advice: If your feet keep taking you somewhere and you enjoy the vibe, stay. Whether it’s a favorite café with regulars you recognize, a park where local dog owners congregate, or your neighborhood comic book shop—repetition breeds familiarity. And familiarity breeds connection.
3. Prioritize Shared Values, Not Just Shared Interests
Common interests are great icebreakers, sure, but shared values are the real glue. Some of the strongest friendships I’ve formed have been with people who don’t care about hockey (gasp!) or books but share my belief in community, creativity, and humor. Find the people who align not just with what you love but why you love it.
4. Stop Looking for ‘Perfect’ and Start Looking for Authentic
News flash: Nobody has everything figured out. Your community doesn’t need to be Insta-perfect or resemble a “Friends” sitcom dynamic to matter. The real magic happens when you embrace people, flaws and all, and let them do the same for you.
Act IV: The Tribe Test
These days, my tribe isn’t huge, but it’s solid. It’s made up of creative types who’ll geek out with me about narrative structure, friends who’ll eat dumplings at 3 a.m. after a Leafs game, and family who’ll remind me why I love Toronto even when the rent prices don’t.
Here’s how I know they’re my people:
- They’ll tell me when I’m wrong, but also celebrate when I’m right.
- They’ll lend me a hand (or a laugh) without making it feel like a favor.
- Above all, they make me—just as I am—feel enough.
Finding your people isn’t a one-and-done event. It’s like dating—messy, exhilarating, and full of detours. But when you find those who truly see and support you, it’s absolutely worth navigating the awkward silences and occasional karaoke disasters.
Final Takeaway
If you’re still searching for your tribe, take heart: it’s not about finding the perfect group but the right group for you, quirks and all. Show up authentically, embrace moments of vulnerability, and trust that your people are out there looking for you, too. You don’t have to do life alone—or haul that metaphorical sofa by yourself.
Here’s to finding your people—and maybe even a standing karaoke ovation along the way.