I'm over 60 and just figured out why I never had close friends—these 6 behaviors were pushing everyone away

For decades, I convinced myself that having close friends just wasn't in the cards for me. I had acquaintances, sure. Colleagues who'd grab coffee with me. Neighbors who'd wave hello. But those deep, soul-baring friendships everyone else seemed to have? They always eluded me, and I blamed everything except myself.

It took turning 60 and a particularly lonely birthday dinner to finally ask the hard question: What if the problem was me all along?

That realization hit like a freight train. After some serious soul-searching and honest conversations with people who'd drifted away over the years, I discovered six behaviors that had been sabotaging my friendships for decades. If you've ever wondered why your relationships stay surface-level, maybe my mistakes can save you some time.

1. Always needing to be the smartest person in the room

Remember that friend who corrected everyone's grammar at dinner parties? Yeah, that was me.

Growing up as an only child with high-achieving parents, I learned early that being smart earned praise. But somewhere along the way, I turned every conversation into a competition. Someone would mention a news story, and I'd jump in with additional facts they hadn't mentioned. A friend would share a problem, and I'd immediately launch into my superior solution.

What I've learned since is that being right matters less than being kind. This didn't come naturally to me at first. I had to physically bite my tongue sometimes. But when I stopped treating conversations like debates to win, something magical happened. People actually started enjoying talking to me.

Now when someone shares something with me, I ask myself: Do they want information or connection? Most of the time, it's connection. And connection doesn't come from proving how much you know.

2. Turning everything into a problem to solve

Speaking of problems, here's another behavior that kept me isolated: I approached every friendship like a project to manage.

When I started as a junior analyst at 23, I was working 70-hour weeks. Everything in my professional life was about efficiency and solutions. Without realizing it, I brought that same energy to my personal relationships. Friend having relationship troubles? Here's a five-step plan. Someone stressed about their job? Let me create a spreadsheet of pros and cons.

The wake-up call came when a former friend told me, "I never felt like you actually heard me. You were too busy trying to fix me."

Ouch. But she was right.

I've since learned to be the friend who listens instead of the friend who problem-solves everything. Sometimes people just need someone to say, "That sounds really tough" instead of "Here's what you should do." Revolutionary concept, right? Yet it took me six decades to figure it out.

3. Keeping score in every relationship

Do you know what kills friendships faster than almost anything? Keeping a mental ledger of who owes what.

I was the queen of this. I remembered every dinner I paid for, every favor I did, every time I went out of my way for someone. And when the "balance" felt off? Resentment would creep in. I'd think things like, "I helped her move last year, but she can't drive me to the airport?"

Here's what I missed: friendship isn't a transaction. It's not about perfect reciprocity. Some friends are great at showing up for big moments but terrible at remembering birthdays. Others might never help you move but will listen to you cry at 2 AM.

When I stopped keeping score and started appreciating what each person brought to the table, my relationships became less stressful. Turns out, constantly calculating who owes what is exhausting for everyone involved.

4. Performing friendships instead of experiencing them

This one stings to admit, but I spent most of my adult life performing friendships rather than experiencing them.

What do I mean? I was always "on." Always trying to be the funniest, most interesting, most put-together version of myself. I'd rehearse stories before social gatherings. I'd never share struggles until after I'd solved them. My friendships felt like job interviews where I was perpetually trying to prove my worth.

The problem? Nobody can connect with a performance. They can only connect with a person.

I grew up in a middle-class suburb where appearance mattered. Looking back, I internalized that message too deeply. I thought vulnerability was weakness, and weakness would make people leave. But the opposite is true. Vulnerability is what creates bonds.

These days, I share my messy moments too. The failed recipes, the arguments with my spouse, the days when I feel lost. And guess what? People don't run away. They lean in and share their own struggles. That's where real friendship lives.

5. Making my career the only interesting thing about me

For years, when people asked about my life, I talked about work. My latest project. The promotion I was gunning for. Industry trends. I had sacrificed so much of my personal life for career advancement that work became my entire identity.

But here's what nobody tells you: your job title doesn't make you interesting at parties. Your salary doesn't make you a good friend. And your professional achievements, while important, aren't what people remember about you.

I noticed that conversations would die when I brought up work stuff. People's eyes would glaze over during my detailed explanations of financial analysis. They weren't being rude; they just couldn't relate.

Now I lead with other parts of myself. My attempts at veganism. The hiking trail that kicked my butt last weekend. The gardening disaster that resulted in an invasion of squirrels. These stories create connections in ways that work achievements never could.

6. Waiting for others to make the first move

This might be the behavior that cost me the most potential friendships: I always waited for others to reach out first.

Part of it was pride. Part of it was fear of rejection. But mostly, it was this weird belief that if people really wanted to be my friend, they'd make the effort. So I'd sit at home, checking my phone, wondering why nobody ever called.

The truth? Everyone's busy. Everyone's insecure. Everyone's waiting for someone else to make the first move.

When I started being the one who texts first, suggests plans, and follows up after meeting someone new, my social life transformed. Yes, sometimes people don't respond. Yes, sometimes plans fall through. But the connections I've made by taking initiative have been worth every moment of awkwardness.

Final thoughts

Looking back, I spent decades wondering what was wrong with everyone else. Why didn't they want to be close friends with me? Why were all my relationships so surface-level?

The answer was painful but liberating: I had been standing in my own way.

These behaviors didn't develop overnight, and they won't disappear overnight either. I still catch myself launching into problem-solving mode or keeping mental score. But awareness is the first step. Once you see these patterns, you can start changing them.

If you recognize yourself in any of these behaviors, be gentle with yourself. We all have blind spots. We all have habits that push people away. The beautiful thing? It's never too late to change. At 60-something, I'm finally learning how to be a real friend. And for the first time in my life, I'm discovering what it feels like to have them too.

The birthday dinner that started this journey? This year, I won't be eating alone.