What It Feels Like to Truly “Find Your People”

Growing up, I was never the kid with a massive friend group. In elementary school, I hung out with the guys because they made me laugh and actually ran, not walked, the mile in P.E. In middle school, I had a solid group of girl friends—until things got messy, people started getting excluded, and it all fell apart. In high school, I dated a football player from another school, so his friends quickly became my friends. I envied the kids in my small hometown who had grown up together, whose parents had been friends for decades, who already knew exactly who would stand beside them at their wedding. I never felt like I had that.

Then I got to college, where friendships seemed even more complicated. First, there were the people I met during move-in who felt like instant best friends—until classes started, schedules changed, and we drifted apart. Then came the club friends who shared my career goals, took the same classes, and were just as driven—until they stopped inviting me out after meetings because I wasn’t 21 yet. There was the roommate who helped me through a rough breakup and sparked my love for spontaneous runs to the Cheesecake Factory—until she moved out and barely made time for me. And then there was the friend who felt like my platonic soulmate, who crashed on my couch most nights, who even sent her Wordle score to my mom every day—until she started dating my ex and suddenly avoided me altogether.

For a while, I wondered if I was the problem. Everyone else seemed to find their people so easily, while my friendships kept slipping away.

Then, I found my people.

They had always been around, but I never really knew them outside of group settings. They stuck with me through the break-up, and I knew I had their support without them ever having to pick sides or be nasty to my ex. With them, I can find myself laughing my ass off one minute, then intently studying for an hour the next.  We have fun, but we’re also responsible. We look out for each other, not just socially but academically and financially too. Most importantly, I don’t feel that familiar anxiety that used to creep into my friendships—the fear that if I said the wrong thing or wasn’t always available, I’d be left behind.

I remember the moment in therapy when I realized how much had changed. Before, I felt like I had to be perfect—always saying the right thing, always being available, always proving my place. If I wasn’t, I would become an afterthought – overlooked, left out, and slowly phased out of the friend group entirely. Now? I can go on a week-long trip abroad and come back to friendships that feel just as strong. I can say no to plans without worrying I won’t be invited next time. I can be honest when they do something that upsets me without the fear that it will push them away forever.

Sure, they still do things that frustrate me or that I don’t always agree with. But that overwhelming worry—the fear of being left behind—is gone. And the peace that replaces it? 

It’s everything.