How to Make Friends
Two WhatsApp messages came in last night, both unprompted, from friends of friends who are moving to Lisbon and asked me an innocent question, "how do I make friends there?"
The question stumped me. Not because I don't know what to say, but because it can't be said over a few sentences in a text message.
Making friends is not a logistical, practical item, like say where to find healthy vegetarian food, or how much health insurance costs, or which yoga studio should I try.
It is a deep question that requires first going inwards before going outwards.
As I sat there on my couch at night, I put my phone aside and began to reflect.
In the past few weeks, I have been traveling and connected either in-person or over the phone, with close friends across different chapters in my life and continents in the world. From Sydney and Lisbon, to San Francisco, New York and Toronto, to London and Singapore, I look back at my recent interactions with friends with fondness and gratitude.
The process of making friends as an adult begins with deciding to make friends. That decision has tremendous consequences and implications.
This decision requires sacrifice. To treat friendship not as a luxury for when time permits, but as essential as sleep, as food, as exercise. It means sometimes choosing a coffee with a potential friend over an extra hour of work. It means showing up to gatherings and events, when exhaustion begs me to stay home. It means vulnerability when all my adult instincts push toward self-protection.
The structure of adult life is inherently isolating. We no longer have the ready-made social pools of classrooms and dormitories. The casual daily interactions that spark connection have been further eroded by remote work culture—no more impromptu lunches with colleagues or conversations waiting for the elevator.
I felt this acutely when I first started working remotely five years ago. The freedom was intoxicating, but something vital was missing. The spontaneous human moments that punctuated office days disappeared. My world narrowed to scheduled video calls and carefully crafted text and voice messages.
What I've learned through setting up a home, and by proxy, a life, in New York, Lisbon and Sydney, is that adults must create the conditions for friendship that once happened naturally. This is not a passive process—it's architectural. I have needed to build the structures that foster connection rather than waiting for them to appear.
Adult friendships haven't happened in the margins of life for me—they happen only when I carve out space at the center.
Friendship occupies territory that nothing else can fill. Not family, not romantic partnership, not professional relationships.
Sitting across from a friend in a café in Sydney, I found myself sharing thoughts I hadn't even admitted to myself. There was nothing at stake—no family dynamics to maintain, no relationship stability to consider, no professional reputation to protect. Just the clean air of connection for its own sake.
I've observed that family relationships come with tribal expectations—patterns established decades ago that can be beautiful but also limiting. Romantic partnerships carry the weight of shared life management. Professional connections must always honor certain boundaries.
But friendship—true friendship—creates space for exploration without consequence. For authenticity without calculation. For growth without an agenda.
After fifteen years as a CEO, I understand the difference profoundly. Professional friendships, while meaningful, exist within constraints. They're contextual by nature. True friendship transcends context—it follows no organizational chart, honors no hierarchy, serves no purpose beyond itself.
This isn't to diminish other connections. Rather, it's to recognize that friendship fills gaps that nothing else can. Gaps that, left unfilled, leave us incomplete.
Making friends as an adult follows a consistent equation: initial effort + consistent investment = compound returns.
The first stages require the most energy. Every interaction feels deliberate, sometimes awkward. Every invitation carries the risk of rejection. Every conversation requires presence when it would be easier to retreat to the comfort of established connections online.
I remember feeling exhausted after my first few weeks of friendship-building in Lisbon. The constant introducing myself. The stretching to remember names and details. The showing up to events where I knew no one. It felt like pushing a boulder uphill.
But something shifted around month three. Invitations began to flow both ways. Conversations developed continuity. Inside jokes emerged. The boulder that once required my constant straining began to roll with its own momentum.
This is the secret that few discuss: friendship has a tipping point. Invest enough consistent effort upfront, and eventually, the relationship begins to generate its own energy. The challenge is that most adults give up before reaching this inflection.
Looking at those Whatsapp messages again, I realize there's no simple answer to give. No three-step process. No list of meetup groups or apps or venues.
Making friends as an adult isn't about finding the right locations or activities. It's about becoming the right kind of person—one who has decided that connection matters enough to rearrange life around it. One who is willing to make the initial investments of effort. One who understands that meaningful relationships don't just happen to adults—they are built, deliberately and patiently.
The research confirms what experience has taught me: nothing contributes more to wellbeing than genuine connection. Not career success. Not financial security. Not even physical health. We are, at our core, social creatures whose nervous systems regulate best in the presence of trusted others.
I look back at my phone now, ready to craft a response to these two people who asked me how to make friends. I see that in the time I spent staring out over my balcony and reflecting on what to say, I had received a few new messages—someone from Lisbon checking in, someone from Sydney extending an invitation, someone from Toronto continuing a conversation from days ago.
This is the momentum of friendship at work.
And that is how I learned to make friends.
