Image by Disney | ABC Television Group (License CC BY-SA 2.0)
Six months ago, I moved to LA to pursue acting (said everyone who moved to LA six months ago). I didn’t move because I wanted to move to a new city. I was pretty content in my hometown (Austin, Texas), having built a solid life there for the previous eighteen months. However, I knew my career possibilities were limited, so I packed up my minivan and headed west.
Having been a theatre kid my whole life, I never had to try very hard to make friends. Friends came with the territory when you spent every waking moment with the same group of people, all of us working towards a common goal. Because of this, I thought for sure I was an extrovert. Extroverts love to be with people, right? That’s the definition as far as I was concerned.
It wasn’t until after college I realized I was actually a textbook introvert. Without the structure of school and theatre, I found myself spending most of my time alone, and afterwards, feeling more energized. I was uninterested in hanging out with people I didn’t already know. In fact, I dreaded it. I came to see that the through-line in my friendships is that I don’t seek connections that aren’t meaningful and don’t have the potential for intimacy. It doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy somewhat surface level relationships, but I can’t really maintain them unless I know we will go deeper.
I don’t mind seeing the same people over and over again, because to me, relationships aren’t about new information, but about witnessing people through time. This is why most of the people I see on a regular basis are those I know from high school and college. I’ve only made two genuine new friends since moving to LA, and both are over the age of forty.
“What is this pressure about? Where did it come from? I (and many others) maintain that capitalism and its values affect far more than our notions about money.”
I meet new people but end up feeling rather lonely, because I don’t exactly know how to connect without REALLY connecting. I struggle to make small talk for long periods of time. It exhausts me. It also doesn’t help that I’m generally awkward and love to overthink pretty much everything. I love acting, but networking, which comprises about 90% of the job, is a nightmare. Why did I choose this path? An article for another time.
On the other hand, my roommate, who gave me the idea for this article in the first place, is sort of the opposite. She has plenty of people she maintains friendships with who she’s known forever. However, she absolutely loves meeting new people and making new friends too. She lives for it. When we got here, it was amazing to watch. Within the first month she had about ten new people she hung out with. In between meet ups with people from high school and solo trips to the Unitarian church I found, I was getting very intimate with my Netflix account (as always). My roommate and I love each other, but I know I baffle her as she baffles me.
What we have in common though, besides nine years of friendship and shared history, is the pressure to make new friends. I feel my lack of desire to meet new people is totally uncool and potentially destructive, and she feels like if she goes out and doesn’t meet new people, she’s wasting her time.
What is this pressure about? Where did it come from? I (and many others) maintain that capitalism and its values affect far more than our notions about money. We live in a “more is more” culture. Acquire more, be more happy, rinse and repeat. Quantity over quality. This ideal has been challenged by hundreds of childrens books and other parables, yet here we are. The more people we have, the better. The more people who can appear in our photos, like our posts, and come to our parties, the more likely it is that other people will think we are cool and have it all under control. Just as the more money/possessions you have, the more social and economic security you have, and therefore the furthest away from mortality you are. Along with freedom and lite beer drinking, these are our American values.
However, before I try and take down capitalism, I want to recognize that there are real benefits to making new friends. Making new friends helps you learn more about the world and different ways of living, which ultimately helps you learn about yourself. You can network and meet like-minded people, who you can then collaborate with. Meeting new people helps dissolve arbitrary boundaries like race, religion, gender identity, and class. It’s how change can happen. A lot of the greatest ideas in our world have been generated through diverse collaboration. That doesn’t happen without people being unafraid to make the first move with someone they don’t know.
Consciousness is, as always, key. Both lifestyles, seeking new friends, or not seeking new friends, can be a breeding ground for detachment. Too much time alone or with the same people doesn’t necessarily make you safer—it can possibly even lead to a false sense of superiority—which will make it harder to connect when you actually want to. Making connections with too many people can make it harder to slow down and be present with the people you already know. New friends and connections that only serve you, as an object would, will leave you with nothing, and so will being endlessly skeptical of people you don’t know.
Do I still spend entire days without leaving my apartment? You bet. Do I feel bad about it? Less and less. Do I think this culture was set up for extroverts to succeed? Most of the time. However, I know that our world needs everyone, and everyone needs the world. Some of us just need it in smaller bites.
Natalie Houchins is a graduate of Northwestern University, with
degrees in Theatre and Gender & Sexuality Studies. She is a writer and
actress based out of LA, who is perennially homesick for Austin, TX.
She currently spends her free time hiking, watching Battlestar
Galactica and resisting the Trump administration. For more information, visit her website: www.nataliehouchins.com.