"I Spent A Week Trying To Make New Friends"

Have you ever sat down and really thought about the bunch of (in my case) absolute weirdos that make up your friendship group, I recently did and realised I haven't made a solitary new friend for like, years. My closest are people I've known since I was either an actual baby or at college. Since moving to London almost four years ago, I have made one good pal. I'm fully aware this makes me sound like a nightmare and that's not totally untrue - I'm not the biggest fan of group social events and because I'm moderately intolerant of other people, I'm kinda hard to get along with. Funny, really, when you think how age is supposed to bring with it confidence and self-acceptance.

I, though, have gone the other way. With every passing year I become more uptight, manage to rack up a whole range of new hangups and feel even less inclined to put myself in uncomfortable situations. Here's what happened when I spent a week trying, desperately (almost embarrassingly at some points) to get new people to like me through various methods. So in retrospect this is where I went wrong. I was so arrogant, my colleague's "just do it" mantra ringing in my ears, that I went too hard too soon. I'd signed up to a meet up of likeminded women (read: freaks) imagining I would burst through the door, be stunning and hilarious and make everyone (platonically) fall in love with me. The reality was, I was running late, sweaty and stressed when I stumbled into the members club the event was being held at.

Sitting at the only empty space in the room, the end of a three-seater sofa, I'd assumed the people on it would be forced to interact with me. But no, the woman in the middle literally turned her back and carried on laughing and joking. Not gonna lie, it didn't feel good. When I turned to the other side, three women were huddled together nattering away. Their group was impenetrable. I was feeling nervous, a bit angsty and tbqh rejected. At this point, a stronger person than I would have just got up and spoken to someone else. But because I was already feeling nervous, a bit angsty and tbqh rejected, I did what any millennial would do - all my email admin while refusing to look up from my phone screen. You're never alone with a phone.

After an hour my boyfriend texted saying he'd bought beers and was making pizza so I grabbed my backpack and slunk off into the night. All in all: a bad night in which my confidence had been thoroughly shook. I'd woken up feeling a little bit disheartened but mostly pathetic. I was berating myself - not only have I had 28 years of practise of talking to strangers, but I'm a journalist. It's my bloody job to speak to people. So Tuesday was spent getting back on the horse and being kinda creepy to people I barely know who work in my office - namely, cornering them and engaging them in convo come hell or high water. One guy, who I often speak to in the shared kitchen suggested we go for a pint.

Before this we hadn't really chatted too much, just general nerd BS about Blade Runner 2049 and GoT fan theories. So we went to the pub and do you know what, I've realised I'm much better one-on-one because as soon as I find some common ground (in this case: movies, books and beer), I can chomp on for ages without feeling even slightly awks. My team were super shocked that I'd managed to go for a drink with essentially, a stranger. I felt smug AF. Apparently, Bumble isn't just a dating app, you can meet actual pals on it too.