Whining, Wine-ing & Winning

Remember when you were a kid and making friends was easy?

You’d walk up to another kid at the playground, ask if they wanted to play, and five minutes later you were best friends. You didn’t need references, a background check, or three mutual friends to vouch for you.

As adults, it’s apparently a lot more complicated.

Today I met a really cool woman at the pool. We talked for over an hour. Not a quick “nice weather” conversation. An actual conversation. Kids, life, random stuff. The kind where you walk away thinking, “Hey, this person is fun.”

So I did something that felt incredibly brave for a 40-something adult.

I asked if she wanted to exchange numbers and hang out sometime.

Her response?

“I’d rather not.”

Now listen, she’s allowed to have boundaries. No judgment there. Maybe she’s private. Maybe she’s had weird experiences. Maybe she already has enough friends and doesn’t need another hot-mess mom showing up in her life talking about deviled eggs, sports, and perimenopause.

Just like that.

But for about three seconds I was transported right back to middle school.

Did I just get friendship rejected?

Was I too eager?

Do I look like someone who owns seventeen cats and collects people’s hair?

The answer is probably no. At least I hope so.

The older I get, the more I realize making friends is weird. We’re all out here wanting connection, but we’re also busy, cautious, exhausted, and trying not to end up in a true crime documentary.

Meanwhile, I was just looking for someone to drink coffee with while our kids destroy a playground.

The whole thing made me laugh because adult friendships are basically dating without the kissing.

You meet someone. You wonder if they like you. You try not to seem desperate. You overanalyze every interaction afterward. Then you text your husband and ask, “Do you think I’m a weirdo?”

The thing that really got me wasn’t the phone number.

It was that I thought I had found a friend.

When you’re a kid, friendship happens naturally. School, sports, neighbors, sleepovers. You’re surrounded by people all the time.

Then one day you’re an adult and everyone is busy. People have jobs, spouses, kids, schedules, responsibilities, and established friend groups. Suddenly making a friend feels like applying for a position that requires five years of experience, three references, and a second interview.

I know she’s allowed to say no.

I know her answer probably has more to do with her comfort level than it does with me.

But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t sting.

I spent an hour talking to someone I genuinely enjoyed. I put myself out there. I took the risk. Then I walked away wondering if I had somehow missed a giant flashing sign that said, “Please do not attempt friendship.”

Maybe that’s what made me emotional.

Not the rejection itself.

The reminder of how hard it can be to make friends as an adult.

Especially when you’re a stay-at-home mom.

Especially when most of your conversations involve Bluey, snacks, potty training, and trying to remember why you walked into a room.

The funny thing is, if someone told me this story, I’d immediately tell them they weren’t weird.

I’d tell them they were brave.

Because most adults never even ask.

They say, “We should get together sometime!” and then never follow through. They sit next to the same people at dance class, the same people at the pool, the same people at school events, and never take the chance.

I took the chance.

It didn’t work.

That doesn’t mean it was the wrong thing to do.

So if you need me, I’ll be recovering from getting turned down for a friendship date at the community pool while reminding myself that putting yourself out there is still worth it.

Even when it’s awkward.

Especially when it’s awkward.

And if you’re an adult who has ever struggled to make friends, please tell me I’m not the only one.