Approaching 30, things start to change. Friends start to move away for their careers, or sometimes just for a plain old change of scenery. Relationships that seemed destined for marriage dissolve in quick flashes, while other relationships that probably should have dissolved end in weddings and children and moves to the suburbs.
The only permanent thing about my social and romantic life lately is how temporal everything seems to be. The moment I meet somebody I like, I learn that they’re also planning to move away in the near future. I’m often reassured, “we’ll still see each other”, but we both know how that goes.
I used to begrudge people of this fact. I used to think this was a phenomenon unique to Philly, unique to this city with such a dull job market. Obviously, people can’t live here forever, there’s not enough for them to do, I thought. But it’s not the job market, or the people, it’s only life – or life at this age, at least.
The late-twenties early-thirties are the last great period of change before the presumably more stable second half of life begins in the forties and fifties. If you’re an adventurous person, you need to get your sense of adventure out now, while you’re still young and can enjoy it, and enjoy the full benefits of moving to a new place or refreshing your life in other ways. On the other hand, if you’re the type for a stable relationship with pets and kids and a house, then this is the beginning of a whole new journey in life. You’re suddenly preoccupied with things that are tremendously important to you. You’ve created human life and must now nurture it. Hanging out on the weekends with your old friends and going to the latest restaurants and bars and cafes seems altogether less important than the responsibility that now befalls you, a parent.
About a year ago, when I went through a painful breakup, I thought a lot about this. In prior years, I had blamed my poor social life on the city I lived in, the friends I knew who moved, on everything but myself. But last year, I realized that I had never put much effort into making friends of my own. Ultimately, it was one of the main reasons the relationship failed. Like many who enter relationships under false pretenses, I said I wanted a partner, but what I really wanted was friends. I was tired of my life and wanted a refresh.
When the relationship eventually dissolved, not only was I without a partner, but I was also without a social life. The order of my busy relationship life had been disrupted and I was now, suddenly, quite alone in the world, feeling the gravity of my own existence for the first time in several years. While in a relationship, I had been so busy with social engagements and weekend getaways that I was in a constant state of conscious drift, living life on a sort of autopilot, often unaware of myself because I was only half-engaged in the things I was doing, not fully enjoying them.
So I pushed myself. I grieved for about two months, taking some time to repaint my new house before I took a solo trip to Berlin and Warsaw. I made sure to get out of my comfort zone. I started conversations with random people, met strangers at a hostel, went out to clubs until the sun came up, wandered around in the fog and the cold in Warsaw for hours by myself without eating or drinking, filling up only on coffee until I absolutely needed to eat something lest I collapse. I cried about my breakup for the last time on the flight home. Importantly, the trip had made room for a great change in my life, and when I returned home I applied the same energy I had found in Europe to my life in Philadelphia. I started treating every day like the new day full of possibilities that it was. I stopped eating as much as I used to, letting myself go a little hungry to remind myself what it feels like to be alive and not fully satiated at all times, to allow myself to feel like a human as opposed to a middle class American consumer.
And it worked. Things started to click in a way they hadn’t before. I began meeting new people, saying yes to any social opportunities that came my way, making my own social engagements, asking people I barely knew if they wanted to get coffee or a drink, and soon enough, these previously tangential relationships turned into real friendships, where we knew things about each other’s lives, talked about real things instead of just small talk, met each others’ friends, became more integrated in each others’ lives.
Aiding heavily in this mindset was a mushroom trip that I took at a warehouse party in the spring of last year. The trip felt like a monumental breakthrough in my life. It kicked open doors I didn’t even know existed in my brain, pushed me to be even more open, to understand and experience the full breadth, brevity and importance of being alive on earth. It made me come to terms with things that I didn’t want to face, things that I had buried, and made me realize that my city is a place full of potential, a place I want to live, where I’d like to establish roots and a community.
During all this time, I had started dating again, but every relationship that blossomed eventually came to an end, often by circumstances outside of my control. Mostly, people moved away. People I really liked moved away. We said we’d stay in touch, and we did or have, but the end goal was unclear.
And now, another relationship has blossomed and is ending in a move. It’s a tough pill to swallow for the third time in one year. Other friends from Philadelphia are now also moving away, or planning to. I’m happy for them, of course, I want my friends to live according to how they best see fit. I don’t want people to stay here and stagnate just because I enjoy hanging out with them. And yet, it’s always hard. I’m beginning to feel truly comfortable in my life here, in a way that I haven’t felt since moving home.
I’m trying to stay positive, trying to not lose the energy I had last year, trying to keep the mindset that helped me get to where I am today. It’s a battle, but I’m keeping the faith. I want to be understanding, but I also mourn the loss of some very strong connections that I’ve built up over the past year. Things will change, they always do. The best way to deal with that is to roll with the changes, to understand that it’s not about you, it’s just life at this age (or whatever age that may be for you, dear reader). Everything is temporal, people are always changing and moving, and as the old ones leave, new ones will surely fill in if you want them to. And that will probably change eventually, too. It’s just the pattern of life.
“There’s a place in my heart for all of my friends
Some have stepped out but some check back in”
– Kurt Vile