Growing up, making friends goes a little like this: as a child you just have them—neighbors, cousins, they’re everywhere—in high school, miserable or not, you still have them, and in college, campus life usually ensures a round-the-clock social circle. Once you hit adulthood, however, the universe stops throwing people who share your age and interests in front of you, especially when moving to a new city or traveling solo. Friendships suddenly become something you have to seek out.
Meeting new people was hard even in 2019. After the pandemic’s onset though, it became even more difficult. Life got more lonely. Not just friends, but shared moments with acquaintances and strangers became scarcer. For many, community and a sense of belonging faded. If you were in a position in which you wanted to meet new people, you may have felt stuck.
Twenty-twenty-one glimmers with hope. As the vaccine rolls out, this is the year in which we’ll, hopefully, return to our neighborhood hangouts and into the world alike. For many of us, the joy of living in a city and the thrill of travel is social interaction. But after a year of so much isolation, how exactly do we get comfortable with strangers again? Here, a few tips on meeting new people when the time comes—online, nearby, or even far away.
Overcome your anxiety
Whether it’s sending a DM or asking a stranger for tips or directions, we’re often our own enemies when trying to get out of our shells. Negative thoughts can separate us from other people as we pass through the world. Psychologist Laura Bonomo calls out these universal “what if thoughts” as obstacles.
“Have an honest conversation with yourself and root out your ‘what if thoughts’ around meeting new people. Go through each of these thoughts and then examine if they are valid,” she says.
For example you might think “What if no one talks to me?” In this case, you’re right, there is a chance you have to make the first move and break the ice. But in examining this thought, it’s also important to ask yourself, so what if I have to? Is that a bad thing? The answer is no, it’s not. Someone has to be the impetus for an interaction to happen, and it might as well be you.
But what if people aren’t open to talking to you or are disinterested? Bonomo offered a piece of advice she likes to tell her clients who are dating. “It’s not about them, it’s about you. If they're not meeting your needs, let it go! You’re on this trip for yourself. Keep the focus on what you want, not on whether you’re accepted or fit in.” And don’t get down on yourself for experiencing this anxiety in the first place, either—it’s only natural. After a year of avoiding strangers, going up to them might feel like an alien act.
Another common concern: What do I have to offer, anyway? The true and obvious answer is, a lot. You just have to be open to realizing it. Maybe you have a calming presence, give great advice, or offer on-point recommendations. And if you’re not comfortable talking about yourself just yet, you can put the spotlight onto others through questions, curiosity, and listening. Be reassured that you aren’t the only one looking forward to branching out after a year spent more or less alone.
To ease the nerves, you can always prepare before approaching people. Dine solo and banter with the bartender or chat people up in the Trader Joe's line as practice. It’s always helpful to have a couple of conversation pieces in the back of your mind, too—maybe a funny travel disaster story or the fantastic crêpe stand you stumbled upon. An exit line is also key. Think, “Excuse me, I’m going to stick around to ask the tour guide a few questions. It was good talking to you.”
Stick your neck out
Meg Bernhard is a writer who has solo traveled extensively in Spain, and often finds herself alone on the road or moving from one place to another. She’s used to solitude and is more comfortable traveling by herself than with others, but still seeks out human connection whenever she travels.
“I never wanted to go to bars and clubs alone because that would just be sort of sad and potentially nerve-racking as a woman. So what I would do then is go on walking tours of the city and try to meet people on those walking tours and chat with whoever seems interesting.”
When she walked the Camino de Santiago, a month-long pilgrimage through Northern Spain, she found communion with other pilgrims by asking why they were walking.
“[At night at the hostels] people would talk about what they found on the walk, how they felt during the walk, and why they were walking. That was always a really good conversation starter. What brought you to come all the way to Spain and walk 400 miles?” Now, wherever she goes she asks, “Why are you traveling? What's your life like back home?”
A good way to meet locals: meet up with friends of friends, Bernhard says. This is something I did in Greece with my family a couple years ago. My mom’s cousin Georgia, who visits the U.S. annually and who we know well, linked us to our greater extended family. We got together at one of their houses in the outskirts of Athens for a long night of dinner, dessert, and conversation.
It doesn’t have to be as formal as that, and you don’t have to be related—try meeting a couple people for coffee and seeing where things go from there. With our exceedingly vast online networks, the odds that someone knows someone in the city you’re visiting is high.
Find people who share your interests
Friends are people who do things together. So it’s important to know what you like to do, on vacation and otherwise. Activities that are inherently social are a natural way to meet new people. Not only because you will have a shared interest with those people, but because you have a reserved chunk of time to spend in their company. A two-hour cooking lesson, for example, offers more opportunity to relate than if you get chatting with someone in a bar.
Travel specialist Louisa Fisher likes to scuba dive, and so do her clients.
Outdoors with ample personal space, diving might be a good way to ease into putting yourself out there post-pandemic. (So might snorkeling, a similar but more accessible option.)
Fisher describes it as the perfect balance between silence, when you’re underwater, and connection, when you emerge and swap notes on what you saw.
“When you’re diving, it’s meditative. When you're underwater, crystal clear, in this incredible vibrant environment, you're breathing, the whole feeling is very much a step back from conversation, a step back from life. You have that time underwater, and then you come up and share that experience with someone else. You have that time to really reflect.”
Maybe this will be what it’s like as we all come up for air this year and eventually get back out there. After all, nothing makes friendship as beautiful as solitude.