What it’s Really like to Build New Relationships
Dear reader,
It’s funny how the smallest moments can shape our relationships and teach us things we never expected. I’ll never forget the first time I met my freshman college roommate. Move-in day, full of the typical awkward small talk: what we liked, what we didn’t, what we might need for the room. Things were going well, and the conversation drifted to how amazing the city was. I mentioned, offhandedly, how my mom had a “heart attack” walking into the nearby Super Target because it was so massive and impressive.
To my surprise, his face fell. Concern etched across his features, he asked, “Oh my gosh, is she okay?”
At first, I was too startled to respond. I managed a laugh and said, “Oh, she’s fine—she loved it!” But he wasn’t convinced. He pressed further, confused why I’d say something like that if she wasn’t actually hurt. I explained it was just a figure of speech, but the moment lingered awkwardly. The next day, he even asked my mom if she was okay—twice.
Looking back, I realize that was the first of many moments where I had to learn to communicate differently with him.
There were signs, of course.
Late-night UNO games became a classic example. One of our friends would jokingly warn us not to put down a green card, claiming they “definitely didn’t have one.” My roommate would take them at their word, play a green card, and then genuinely feel betrayed when they won. He’d say, “But you lied to us!”—utterly baffled that bluffing was part of the game.
Then there were moments when he needed reassurance about small things. If I turned down lunch with him because of a busy schedule, he’d ask, “Are we still good? Do you still like hanging out with me?”
At first, these moments felt awkward and tiring. But as the semester wore on, I realized they were opportunities to grow, not just for him, but for me. I started picking up tools to make our interactions smoother.
Clear communication became my secret weapon. I toned down my sarcasm, especially in situations where I knew it might confuse him. Instead of saying, “Leg day really destroyed you,” I’d joke, “You’re walking like a robot today!” He got that kind of humor, and we laughed together.
Reassurance was another tool. When I couldn’t hang out, I made sure to tell him, “I really do want to, but I’ve got a project due. Let’s grab lunch tomorrow instead.” It was a small change, but it made him feel valued, and that mattered.
Patience became my mantra. I learned to explain social cues in real time, like during UNO. “Oh, he’s just bluffing—it’s a joke to throw us off.” Over time, he started to pick up on these patterns.
Positivity and kindness smoothed everything out. I avoided harsh or dismissive words, and when something did go wrong, I made sure to stay calm and constructive.
By the end of the semester, he had made noticeable progress. We worked out together, shared jokes, and even visited his hometown, deepening our friendship. But it wasn’t just him who grew—I had also improved my communication skills. Navigating our relationship taught me how to express myself more clearly, address concerns with kindness, and set healthy boundaries.
Some of his jokes occasionally felt more like personal attacks than humor. While I knew he didn’t intend harm, I realized I needed to address it. I calmly explained that certain comments stung, even if unintentional. To my relief, he understood and became more mindful. This shift created a healthier dynamic, where our humor felt playful, not hurtful.
On the other hand, I had to stop sacrificing my own well-being for him. Constantly putting his needs above, mine left me drained. I learned to communicate my limits, letting him know I’d help when I could but that I also needed time for myself. Setting these boundaries didn’t diminish our friendship; it strengthened it.
Boundaries aren’t barriers—they’re tools for creating mutual respect. They allowed us to grow, individually and together, without resentment or burnout. By the semester’s end, I wasn’t just proud of his progress—I was proud of mine, too, for learning how to balance care for him with care for myself.
Sincerely,
[Studio Wesley Team Member]