Do we know how to connect with new people and nurture our friendships? Has “cut off” culture gone too far? What does it take to build deep, meaningful friendships or community in today’s world?

For twenty- and thirty-somethings, the question “how do I make new friends as an adult?” is almost universal. Life stages, personal choices, relocation, friendship break-ups, or simply never clicking with peers can all create distance from old friends. Yet the desire for genuine human connection remains strong, cutting across genders, backgrounds and life circumstances.

So if everyone is looking for their yap partners, game night opponents, dinner party co-hosts, and beach buddies, why are people still looking? And when we find these people, are we investing ourselves in them fully, or are we just looking for a good time? 

I spoke to six people about how they navigate friendships, from making them, to keeping them, to nurturing them. What emerged were shared themes: how shifting life stages reshape our social circles, the fear of rejection that makes us hold back, the imbalance of effort that strains bonds, the loneliness that lingers despite constant connectivity, the role of boundaries and self-preservation, and the hope of community as a shared duty.

Changing Life Stages

Perhaps the most common obstacle to maintaining friendships is diverging paths, meaning that the circumstances and interests that once bonded you no longer exist. Gone are the care-free days of being surrounded by hundreds of your age-mates, often with at least one shared interest like a university course, and a free, accessible space to hang out to your heart’s content.

The shifting demands of adulthood – careers, family and relocation – mean that friendships naturally change, and the ease of spontaneous connection from youth is largely gone.

Arfah went from balancing numerous social circles from different moments of her life to just a handful of friends. “Having a kid, alongside the effects of the pandemic, meant I just fell off the radar big time. People changed, grew up, and got their own families. I’ve made one really good friend since having my daughter, through a baby sensory class – she feels like the jackpot of ‘mum friends’ because I know I would’ve been friends with her even before becoming a mother, but I see so many people with a big group of friends and I just don’t have that anymore and it feels pretty lonely.”

Sara and Shabs both point to friends getting married, having children, or moving away as the greatest obstacles to maintaining friendships. 

“Your friendships will change, you’ll see each other less, and the things you do together will change. It’s not necessarily a bad thing; it’s a part of life, but that doesn’t mean you can’t expand your social circle and connect with people in a similar stage as you,” Shabs says.

Sara feels that these diverging life paths can make the various parts of life difficult to manage. “I meet new people, but I don’t make the proactive effort to form new deep relationships because life is busy, my cup is full and alhamdulillah I’m content with what I have, but I’m open to holding space to support.” 

In a similar vein, Sameer points to limited time being preventative in meeting new people. “If we factor in commute time and getting ready, the average white collar worker is already occupied from 7 am to 7 pm. After that, it can be exhausting to socialise, or engage in small talk, and with that limited time I often want to prioritise spending time with my family or the friends I already have.”

Social Media Relationships – Blessing or Curse?

Despite the endless ways to stay connected – WhatsApp, Instagram, Twitter, Snapchat, WeChat, Telegram, TikTok, Signal, BeReal, Facebook – Gen Z is the loneliest generation. That’s not very surprising since social media offers the veneer of companionship, but rarely the substance.

Constant digital contact can make us complacent, replacing offline presence with shared memes and viral videos. In the process, we risk losing the deeper practices that sustain real friendship – conflict resolution, sacrifice and commitment.

Sara sees the pros and the cons. “You can have limited availability to socialise in person, but be fully fledged ‘besties’ with friends you primarily interact with online. Though as a result of that connectivity, whether through constant chatter on a group chat or regular Instagram story replies, the urgency to meet up is reduced.”

Both Shabs and Sumayyah show how the internet can open doors to friendships that transcend geography or soften the loneliness of distance and transition.

Sumayyah moved to Manchester about a year ago after getting married, and found that social media helped her settle in more easily. “I was lucky enough to have people reaching out to me online due to my social media presence, to grab a coffee, etc, and I’m now good friends with some of these girls.”

Shabs reflects, “It’s amazing that our circles can grow wider now thanks to the Internet. I have friends all over the world now, and it’s a pleasure to meet them on travels.”

Fatima is another proponent of social media as a lubricant for friendships. “Many of my loved ones are scattered across the country and the world, so sending memes and IG reels has become a way of showing love and staying connected!”

Fear of Rejection and Vulnerability 

Even when opportunities to meet new people exist, stepping into them can feel intimidating. The explosion of interest-based groups – run clubs galore, faith circles, flower-arranging sessions, or ‘sip and paints’ up to your ears – offers spaces to meet new people, but going alone is daunting when everyone else seems to already know each other. Friendship breakups, an unfortunate but inevitable part of life, also leave lingering doubts: can you be vulnerable and open yourself up emotionally again? 

Sara observes, “Emotional scars from our youth can make us wary of new relationships. I think a lot of people in their mid-20s to 30s just want quick fun rather than deep friendships, similar to the dating crisis where no one wants to invest in the unknown – for reasons that may be entirely valid! For me, having that depth in friendships comes from trust and vulnerability – protecting the sanctity of the group, not gossiping, celebrating each other, and showing up with love through the good and bad.”

For Sameer, the hesitation around making friends as an adult is not knowing if you’ll truly click with new people. The effort to find a connection, he reflects, can feel both emotionally and financially costly.

“Making friends in adulthood requires being more intentional and actively going into spaces like Timeleft or activity-based groups. But even then, access comes with its own barriers – tickets for events can cost upwards of £20, a price that makes going regularly difficult.” 

Fatima added,  “I’ve also noticed that the fear of being ‘cringe’ holds people back. But to be cringe is to be free! We need to embrace reaching out and creating connections, no matter how scary it feels. The idea of ‘friend crushes’ was trending online a while back, and it made me think about how rare it is for someone to simply say, I want to be your friend. We need more of that. We live too much in our heads – it’s important to embrace the unknown, reach out, and make memories.”

Effort, Balance, Reciprocity, and Consideration 

Building and sustaining friendships in adulthood takes effort, balance and a willingness to meet each other halfway. But when that reciprocity isn’t shown, relationships can quickly deteriorate. With so many competing responsibilities – careers, family, and life itself – staying present for the people we care about requires intentionality and consideration of each other’s circumstances. 

For Arfah, the effort to reconnect with old friends comes with a mix of joy and frustration, highlighting just how delicate friendships can be when life gets busy. “I had a school friend I think about often. I was worried about her so much that I even messaged her husband, only to find out she had a child. It was a strange mix of happiness and hurt. Over time, I’ve realised that in friendships, you can hold someone in higher regard than they hold you, or the other way around, and that’s just part of the rhythm of adult relationships.”

This past Ramadan, while speaking at a collaborative event between Amaliah and Karrom, hosted by Ramadan Space, Nafisa Bakkar shared a sentiment that resonated with many in the room: “The cost of community is inconvenience.” She captured how the moments we benefit from others’ support are intertwined with the need to offer our own time, effort and care in return.

Since then, this notion has been echoed across Substacks and social media platforms, a marked counterreaction to increasingly individualistic hot takes that had grown in tandem with the ‘loneliness epidemic.’ 

“I think it’s important to cultivate community connections, and I see this as leaning into your community and reaching out to your friends in times of need,” Fatima explains. “Your friends want to be there for you! I have to remind myself of this sometimes, because I’m often keen not to be seen as a burden – but that’s a lie; your brain is playing tricks on you.”

“To be loved is to be known, and vulnerability is so important in friendships. Building deep and meaningful connections today is about supporting each other, showing up, checking in regularly, and backing each other’s projects and ventures. It’s a collective effort, and while showing up may sometimes feel inconvenient, it’s essential for nurturing and strengthening these bonds.”

Shabs shares this feeling. “I prioritise my friends. I try to show up whether that’s for a celebration, a low day, or just a catch-up. Deep friendships come from consistency. Sometimes that means replying to a message even when you’re tired. Or showing up to something when you’d rather stay in. It means noticing who makes an effort with you and doing the same in return. It sounds small and silly, but even things like always being the one to organise the hangout can throw off the balance and leave you feeling underappreciated. Effort has to feel mutual. That’s what makes a friendship feel safe, valued, and long-lasting.”

Boundaries, Self-preservation and Letting Go

Over the past decade, the internet has popularised what’s often called ‘therapy speak.’ Countless jokes have been made, and terms like ‘projection,’ ‘emotional labour,’ ‘gaslighting,’ and ‘trauma’ have become ubiquitous. In some ways, this has allowed for more nuanced discussions as we can now name our experiences and communicate and resolve conflicts better. On the other hand, it has blurred the line between having healthy boundaries and believing that ‘we don’t owe anyone anything.’ Of course, well-communicated boundaries can help friendships last. No one should pour from an empty cup or accept disrespect. Yet, the logical conclusion of ‘protecting your peace’ has turned into ghosting.

When did cutting off friends, blocking, or even phasing them out without a conversation become acceptable? Are we cutting off our friends too soon? Or not soon enough?

For Sara, boundaries depend on the other person’s capacity. “Sometimes it means making the time and space to fall out and reconcile, and other times it’s about being close enough to call each other out when we’re unhappy. It also depends on my own capacity: if a friend is stuck in melancholy and I’ve tried to help a lot, there’s only so much I can do before I need to step back and give us both space so the friendship doesn’t crumble, especially if they’re reluctant to receive help. I don’t cut people off anymore because I’ve nurtured the circles I know I can rely on; everything outside of that feels more like a casual acquaintance, where natural boundaries already exist.”

Sameer finds it easier to call out bad behaviour when it’s directed at others, but struggles when it’s towards him. “I’ve historically been quite bad at setting boundaries, though I think I’m getting better at it. Sometimes I can communicate when something makes me uncomfortable or when I don’t agree with something, but other times I just ignore it – which I know isn’t healthy. I’ve noticed I’m more likely to call things out if it’s directed at someone else, like if a friend is being rude to another person, I’ll step in.”

Sumayyah and Fatima have both wrestled with setting boundaries in the past, but are now actively reflecting on how their friendships affect them and taking steps to respond thoughtfully.

“Thankfully, I have supportive friends who can hold difficult conversations and understand that growth is a necessary part of being an adult. However, I believe that there does come a time when friendships can fizzle out, leading to this permanent distance and a general acceptance that the friendship has come to a natural end. It’s heartbreaking, but it is a part of life,” Fatima says. 

Building on Fatima’s thoughts, Shabs explores how communication, accountability, and knowing when to step back are key to preserving both friendships and your peace.

“Communication is important – you can’t expect growth or remorse without expressing how you feel. But that doesn’t mean you have to continue the friendship. Forgiveness is often misunderstood; it helps you let go mentally, but you still have the right to move on. Some people outsource accountability, relying on others to call them out while continuing to behave poorly. I’ll communicate where possible, but I’ll also step away to protect my peace.”

The Art of the Casual Hang

Friendships can feel difficult to maintain alongside the pressures of work, family, and other responsibilities. When your kitchen needs a deep clean, you need to help prep for your nephew’s birthday party, you’ve been putting in the hours at work every evening and the gym has been calling your name for the last three weeks, your group chat popping off for a hang out this weekend can either feel like sweet escape or a bag of bricks on your chest.

But what if hanging with friends could be a way to tick off your to-do list? What if you could run your errands while enjoying your friends’ company?

“I’ve been thinking about something I saw in a meme that’s been going around: adulthood is basically asking your friends when they’re free, and they say something like ‘three weeks from now, Saturday at 10 am,’ and it’s in the calendar. Everything feels scheduled – we meet to eat, go somewhere, do an activity,” says Sameer. 

“But I really want to start doing more casual hangs, like just running errands together. If you need to get groceries, do it with a friend and catch up while you’re at it. You’re still getting things done, but you’re social at the same time. Finding ways to integrate social time into everyday life is something I want to start doing.”

Sara agrees with Sameer and says that bringing back the casual hang means that people won’t get left behind.

“Too many aspire to the ‘Instagram-worthy’ outing, while the simple ‘come over and chill’ is becoming lost.”

“This leaves many women – especially mums – isolated, as friends without kids often prefer days out that just aren’t accessible when you have a toddler or multiple kids. The effort to plan, compromise, and meet in the middle feels like it’s slipping away in our generation, and I worry that too many women will cut off or let friendships fade with the very people they may one day need, when they themselves are mums unable to go on a hike with a breastfeeding three-month-old at home.”

Community as a Shared Duty

There is a collective mourning of ‘community’ in our generation, whether it’s the loss of house parties or the simple acts of checking in or helping a neighbour. People often point to different causes: not owning homes, the cost of living crisis, endless work pressures, and being spread too thin across careers, family, and obligations. Yet in the same breath, many speak proudly of their phone being on Do Not Disturb from 10 pm, cancelling plans at the last minute, and keeping their social energy carefully rationed.

So how can we speak of community when we’re not willing to be the late-night call for a friend in need, or show up to plans we’ve committed to? To foster deep friendships and a meaningful community, everyone must make deliberate efforts – nurturing, showing up, and leaning on one another as part of a shared responsibility.

Fatima captures this beautifully, “As an extrovert, I love meeting new people! It reminds me that humans are social beings – we have more in common than what divides us. I also look out for common interests between my friends so I can introduce them, and it’s always a joy to see friendships blossom because of those mutual connections. 

“We live in a society deeply rooted in individualism, so being there for each other – especially in times of need – is crucial to building a legacy of friendship and community. As a Muslim, I feel it’s my duty to strengthen my friendships and get involved in the community, because the company we keep has a profound impact on our actions and beliefs.”

Fatima’s reflection on intentionality and connection resonates with Shabs, who turned the challenge of building a community into a practical solution. 

“I found it hard to find a new community, especially in social settings that excluded alcohol, so I decided to start one. I created The Scene to provide a safe, welcoming, and fun space where people could meet and connect. Creating opportunities for connection can be a powerful catalyst – not just for my own friendships, but for others seeking meaningful connections beyond traditional social settings. The cost of community is inconvenience, and running The Scene while working full-time makes that very real. But the reward is worth it: seeing people form lifelong friendships keeps me going.”

This idea of inconvenience and intentionality is something Sameer recognises in his own life.

“I read an article a while ago that said, ‘the cost of true friendship is convenience,’ and it really resonated with me. Growing up, I’d sometimes come home to find my parents casually hosting friends – it seemed effortless for them. But as an adult, I’ve realised that maintaining friendships takes intention. Since moving out, I try to keep my door open for friends who need a space to unwind. Holding space for someone, even when it’s inconvenient, is what builds deep, meaningful connections. Life gets busy and responsibilities pile up, but showing up for each other is how friendship and community endure.”

Sara extends this reflection further, showing that community is not only about showing up, but about actively nurturing it through care, support, and reciprocity.

“To build deep, meaningful friendships and a strong community requires co-creation. It needs to be nurtured by everyone – if you want a village, you need to be a villager. I invest in my friendships emotionally, with my time, and even financially – whether it’s Eid gifts, hosting Eid parties for friends’ kids, bringing food to new mothers, or helping clean their homes postpartum. I love supporting the people I care about, and I never expect the same back because their unique ways of showing love enrich my life. This is what community as a shared duty looks like – giving, showing up, and being there for each other in ways both big and small.”

Friendship is a Choice

Friendship in adulthood is both an art and a responsibility. It demands intention, patience, and sometimes sacrifice. It means showing up when life is busy and giving without expecting anything in return. In these small, deliberate acts – late-night calls, shared errands, quiet check-ins – we build something lasting. Community doesn’t happen by accident; it grows through care, consistency, and love. In an individualistic society obsessed with efficiency and ease, choosing presence and investment is radical.

As Abu Huraira reported, the Prophet ﷺ said, “A man is upon the religion of his best friend, so let one of you look at whom he befriends.” (Tirmidhi)

This reminder underscores that the company we keep shapes who we are. By choosing to nurture, support, and show up for those around us, we not only cultivate deep, enduring friendships but also reflect the values we wish to embody. In that choice, we find the truest rewards: connection, belonging, and community.