Apparently Making Friends as an Adult Requires a Calendar Invite

When you're raising kids, running a business, managing a household and trying to keep some resemblance of a life together, it's amazing how quickly the years go by.

You're busy. Really busy. And most of what fills your days revolves around other people. Your kids, your spouse, your clients, your family. There are practices and games, school schedules, work commitments, dinners, laundry and approximately 400 things you need to remember before Thursday.

Then one day you find yourself thinking, When was the last time I did something just because I wanted to?

And perhaps the more interesting question: What exactly do I want to do now?

I'm 49, my boys are getting older, and I'm finding myself in this funny little season of wanting to figure some of that out. Not because I'm unhappy with my life. Quite the opposite. I've built a life I love. But somewhere between raising children and building a business, I realized there were things I'd been interested in for years that I'd never really made time for. Experiences I wanted to have, hobbies I wanted to try and friendships I wanted to nurture.

So I've been putting myself out there a little more.Which has led me to a rather ridiculous discovery.Making friends as an adult is surprisingly hard.

Remember When Making Friends Was Easy?

Think about how we made friends when we were kids. We went to school. We sat next to someone. We played together at recess. We saw the same people five days a week for nine months, and eventually we found our people.

We didn't schedule a coffee three weeks out, reschedule it twice because somebody had a conflict, and then text six months later saying, "We really need to get together!” We were just there.

As adults, we're all floating around like balloons, occasionally drifting close enough to one another to have a conversation before life carries us in another direction.

Everyone is busy. Everyone is tired. Most people genuinely have good intentions when they say they'd love to get together, but when the time comes, staying home or doing what you've always done is usually easier. Habits are hard to break. And I think the older we get, the more firmly we become ourselves. Some of us develop stronger personalities. Others become more introverted or guarded. We have established routines, existing friendships and full calendars.

It's not that people don't want new friendships. It's that building a meaningful connection requires spending time together, and somehow that's become the hardest part. I am almost always the person who actually makes the plans.

I'll suggest the dinner, organize the group, pick the date and get everyone together. I genuinely enjoy bringing people together, but I won't lie. Every once in a while, I would love for someone else to make the reservation.

Just once, ladies. Surprise me.

So Apparently, I'm Learning Mahjong

Yes, Mahjong. And before anyone says it, no, I'm not playing because it's suddenly the new Bunko.

I've actually been curious about it for a long time. I grew up in a family that played cards, dominoes and games together, often before or after a family dinner. I've always enjoyed games that make you think, and I generally consider myself pretty quick to catch on.

Mahjong has been humbling. There are so many variables and possibilities, and in the beginning, everything seems to happen at approximately 90 miles an hour. Especially the Charleston, when everyone is passing tiles around and I'm still trying to figure out what on earth I should be keeping.

I quickly realized I needed a few more beginner classes and some guided play before sitting down with people who actually knew what they were doing. I could practically imagine an experienced player thinking, Dear Lord, woman, please make a decision.

But here's what surprised me about it.

Learning something new with other people actually takes some of the awkwardness out of meeting them. Everyone is focused on the same thing. You're figuring it out together, asking questions, making mistakes and occasionally wondering whether you have any business being there. There's not much time to worry about whether you're saying the right thing.

I've found book clubs to be almost the opposite. You're sitting around discussing opinions, perspectives and experiences. Conversations go deeper much faster, and you begin to learn how other people think.

I like that both experiences offer something different. One lets you discover whether you enjoy doing something together. The other can help you discover whether you enjoy the people themselves.

And sometimes the people are what surprise you most.

Not Every New Experience Is Going to Be a Winner

I recently signed up for a paella cooking class at a very chef-driven place. I was excited.

I love to cook. I cook all the time, experiment with recipes and genuinely enjoy challenging myself in the kitchen. I thought this would be an opportunity to learn some new techniques and come away with a better understanding of making really good paella.

Instead, I found myself standing over a pan with perfectly premeasured little containers of ingredients that we were instructed to pour in one after another. Add this. Stir that. Pour in the next container. Ta-da! You're a chef!

Everyone around me seemed to be having the best time. They were asking questions, carefully following instructions and genuinely enjoying the experience. Meanwhile, I'm standing there thinking, I cannot believe I paid for this. And immediately following that thought was, Please don't let me look like the bougie snot in this class.

The food was mediocre, and it was absolutely not the cooking experience I had hoped for. But I did learn something. I probably need to aim a little higher when choosing cooking classes. I don't consider myself a professional-level cook by any stretch, but apparently I'm ready for something more challenging than dumping ingredients into a pan. And that's okay. The class wasn't bad for everyone. It just wasn't what I was looking for.

I'm realizing that figuring out what you enjoy sometimes requires figuring out what you don't.

Your Friendships Change Because Your Life Changes

I adore my husband. Stu has been my best friend for years, and for a long time, it has felt like the two of us against the world. He is still the first person I want to tell when something wonderful, funny or meaningful happens. And yes, there are also days when I would happily strangle him.

Marriage.

But I've come to appreciate that expecting one person to share every interest, meet every need and want to experience everything you want to experience is a little ridiculous. We're two different people. There are things he enjoys that I don't, and things I find fascinating that he could probably go the rest of his life without doing.

Having my own interests and friendships doesn't take anything away from our marriage. I think it makes it healthier. I've also realized that friendships naturally change as we move through different seasons of life.

When we started having kids, some friendships changed because our lives suddenly revolved around babies, nap schedules and things our friends without children weren't necessarily experiencing. Then came years of school, sports and family activities. You become close to people because your children are doing the same things, and you spend an enormous amount of time together.

Some of those friendships last forever. Others were wonderful for that season, but as life changes, you discover you don't have quite as much in common anymore. I don't necessarily think that's a bad thing. It just means we keep growing.

And I'm finding that the friendships I make now can be incredibly meaningful in different ways. I've met people who grew up in completely different circumstances, have lived lives unlike mine and see the world through an entirely different lens. They've challenged me, opened my mind and introduced me to things I might never have considered otherwise.

It's a little like painting with one color. You can certainly make something beautiful, but when someone hands you an entire box of colors, you might discover you love a shade you didn't even know existed.

I want more of that.

I'm Not Trying to Become a Different Person

Here's something else I've noticed. Some of the things I always considered absolute truths about myself apparently aren't so absolute anymore.

I've always loved having a warm, comfortable home. My nest. The place I could retreat to after a long day or week. I still love that. But I'm also finding myself wanting to go out more, travel more, try new things and perhaps even own a little less stuff.

I'm entertaining the idea of skydiving, for goodness' sake. Who is this woman?

The funny thing is, I think some of these interests were always there. I just didn't have the time, energy or space to explore them. Now I'm starting to make some. And it's not always comfortable. Walking into a room full of people you don't know, especially when you're about to do something you're not particularly good at, can be unnerving.

I'm a fairly confident person. I'm also competitive and accustomed to knowing what I'm doing. Being a beginner again is good for me. Even when I have absolutely no idea which Mahjong tiles I'm supposed to pass.

I don't need to be great at everything. I don't even need to like everything I try. I just want to be willing to try. And if I happen to find some wonderful people along the way, even better.

At 49, I'm actually more comfortable and, in some ways, more confident than I was in my 20s. That's not something I necessarily expected. I'm not looking to reinvent my life. I just don't want to assume that because I've spent the last couple of decades being a certain version of myself, that's the only version there is.

There may be a whole lot more out there that I love. Apparently, I just need to put it on the calendar.

Brandy Finnessey is an Austin real estate broker with more than 20 years of experience, specializing in West Austin neighborhoods including Northwest Hills, Tarrytown, Westlake Hills, and Rollingwood. She serves clients through The Finnessey Group at Sotheby’s International Realty.