I have always been a person who is comfortable in my own company. Living in a city like Houston, it’s easy to navigate the world as a solo traveler. I don’t mind going to the theater alone, exploring a new coffee shop, or heading out for a run without a partner. I actually value my alone time; it’s where I recharge.
But lately, I’ve had to acknowledge that there is a difference between being independent and being isolated.
My social life is anchored by my family, and I’m grateful for that. But as I’ve moved into my 30s, I’ve felt the absence of a peer circle. When I was in school, friends were just part of the landscape. As I got older, the ‘slow fade’ set in. Life got busy, distances grew, and because I didn’t put in the effort to maintain those connections, they eventually just vanished.
Quieting the Noise
For a long time, I filled the silence of that ‘fade’ with digital voices. I’m not someone who spends hours scrolling through social media feeds, but I am a heavy consumer of content. I love a good YouTube deep-dive, a well-made movie, or a string of shorts that keep me entertained. It’s an easy way to decompress, but it’s also a form or noise that can drown out my own intuition.
That’s why the first part of my Soul work is an intentional daily digital detox.
For ten minutes every day, the screens go off. No movies, no YouTube, no background noise. I spend that time with a physical book, journaling, or even coloring. It’s a small, quiet window, but it’s essential. By stepping away from the digital world for a moment, I’m forced to sit with my own thoughts. The detox isn’t just about ‘less screen time’; it’s about clearing the space so I have the mental energy to actually show up for people.
Seeking "My People"
Once the noise is quieted, the next step is the external work. I’m tired of being an observer in a crowd. I want to be a participant. I’m still going out and doing the things I love, but I’m trying to do them more intentionally.
I’m moving away from being a solo runner and a solo movie-goer toward finding communities where those interests are shared. I’ve started looking into Houston run clubs - not just for the training, but for the chance to meet people who value the same discipline. I’m seeking out cinema clubs where the movie is just the starting point for a real conversation. I’m even trying apps like meetup and RealRoots to find other women who are also looking for community and friendship.
It’s an awkward transition. It’s easy to be the person alone in a theater or the runner who finishes and heads straight to the car. It’s much harder to be the person who sticks around and says ‘ Hi, I’m new here’. There is a specific kind of bravery required to be the ‘new person’ in your 30s, especially when you’ve already so comfortable being on your own.
I’m not trying to change who I am - I’ll always love my alone time, but I’m ready to stop letting my friendships be something that ‘just happens’ (or doesn’t) and start being the person who makes them happen. I’m moving away from the loose commitment I’ve had to friendship for the last decade and trying to see what happens when I actually show up. I’ll always love my solo movie nights and my quiet mornings, but I’m finally ready to share the space.

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