You’re not imagining it—friends are hard to make lately, and these 8 reasons explain why

If you’ve been feeling like making new friends takes more energy than running a half-marathon, you’re not alone.

I hear this from clients, neighbors, and the woman I chat with at the farmers’ market while we weigh tomatoes. Even I—someone who talks to people for a living—have found myself hesitating before sending a simple “Want to grab coffee?” text.

It’s not in your head; the landscape for building friendships really has shifted.

Before we dive in, a quick reminder of why it’s worth the effort. As psychiatrist Robert Waldinger puts it, “Good relationships keep us happier and healthier. Period.”

Let’s unpack what’s making connection harder right now—and what to do about it.

1. Fewer built-in social structures

For years, many of us made friends by accident—coworkers we saw daily, gym buddies we bumped into, parents we chatted with at pickup.

With more remote or hybrid work and less predictable routines, those built-in friend factories now run at half-speed.

At my old finance job, friendships were practically stapled to our calendars: standing Monday meetings, lunches at the same deli, post-earnings decompress walks. When that scaffolding goes away, you need intentionality to replace it.

Try this: create your own “collision points.” Commit to a weekly co-working session at a café, join the same class every Tuesday, or start a small recurring meet-up (book swap, board games, trail run). Repetition is the quiet engine of closeness.

2. Our “third places” have thinned out

“Third places” are the casual, no-pressure spots between home and work—parks, libraries, community centers, cafés—where acquaintances become friends.

Many communities have seen those spaces shrink or become more expensive, louder, or more transactional. Fewer places to linger = fewer chances to connect.

The fix isn’t necessarily moving; it’s micro-hosting. Host a 45-minute “bring your mug” front-stoop coffee, a standing soup night, or a low-key Sunday “walk and talk.”

Keep it short, simple, and consistent so people actually come. Rotate homes or public spaces to share the lift.

3. Time poverty is real (and it kills spontaneity)

Between work sprints, caregiving, side hustles, and the never-ending stream of “updates” on our phones, our free hours are chopped into confetti.

When we’re fried, it’s easier to default to scrolling than to plan something social—especially with new people.

A reframe that helps: treat friendship like fitness. You don’t need three hours; you need 20 minutes on the calendar. Text two people today: “I’ll be at the dog park 5:30–6—join for a lap?”

Put a social “touch” on the same weekly schedule as your workouts, and protect it like a meeting with your future self.

4. The digital comfort zone is sticky

The apps are engineered to feel like social snacks. They’re quick, low-risk, and available 24/7.

But snacks aren’t dinner. The more we graze online, the less hungry we feel for the messier, more nourishing connection of in-person time.

Here’s the nuance: online ties do matter—especially the wider web of acquaintances. A large-scale 2022 study found that “weak ties” (think friendly acquaintances) can be surprisingly powerful for opportunity and connection, which means those quick check-ins and light touches are worth keeping in the mix. Just don’t let them replace depth.

Try using the “two-step” rule: if you interact online (DM, comment, email), take one small offline step (voice memo or call), then one shared experience step (walk, coffee, webinar you both attend live). Build a bridge, not a cul-de-sac.

5. Rejection sensitivity is up

After years of disrupted routines and heightened uncertainty, many of us carry a hair-trigger fear of being brushed off.

That makes us under-invite, over-interpret, and abandon budding friendships too soon. One declined coffee starts to sound like, “They don’t like me,” when it may just mean, “They had a dentist appointment.”

What’s helped me: assume logistics, not judgment. Use clear, specific invitations that are easy to accept or decline—“I’ll be at the community garden Saturday 9–9:45. Want to plant tomatoes with me?”

If they pass, offer a reschedule right then or move on kindly. Your job is to invite, not mind-read.

6. Our social muscles are rusty (but retrainable)

Conversation is a skill. Like any skill, it gets creaky without reps. I realized this the first time I went back to a trail-running group post-lockdown. My legs warmed up faster than my small talk.

If you feel “off,” use scaffolds:

• Go first with warmth. “Hey, I’m Avery—what brought you to this meetup?”

• Borrow a question. “What’s something you’re oddly excited about this week?”

• Close with a tiny next step. “I usually run here Sundays at 8. Want me to text you next time?”

Keep a short list of go-to icebreakers on your phone until they become muscle memory. You’re not “bad at people”; you’re out of practice.

7. We’re filtering too hard

We’ve all read the articles about “finding your people,” and it’s great to know your values.

But strict pre-screening (“must be vegan, must love long hikes, must read this author, must live within 10 blocks”) can prematurely shrink your friend funnel.

Room for serendipity matters. Some of my favorite adult friendships were “side-door” connections: the neighbor who doesn’t share my hobbies but always shows up, the much older volunteer who knows everyone’s name at the market, the coworker whose playlists I shamelessly steal.

Loosen your filters. Replace “dealbreakers” with “green flags,” like consistency, emotional availability, and willingness to plan. Let shared micro-experiences—not perfect alignment—do the bonding.

8. We expect instant chemistry instead of steady build

Movies sell lightning-in-a-bottle friendships. Real life is a crockpot. The spark can be fun, but what really matters is micro-trust earned over time—replying when you say you will, remembering the big interview, dropping soup when they’re sick.

And yes, this takes effort. But friendship isn’t a luxury add-on; it’s core to health. As U.S. Surgeon General Vivek Murthy warns, “Loneliness is far more than just a bad feeling—it harms both individual and societal health.” That’s not to scare you—it’s to validate why your efforts here matter.

Okay, so what do we do?

Here are small, doable experiments to get momentum this month:

• Pick one hub. Choose one place you’ll show up weekly for six weeks (running club, maker space, language circle, faith community, community garden). Consistency beats intensity.

• Adopt a “plus-one” habit. Anytime you’re already going somewhere, invite one person. No overthinking.

• Use the “nudge trio.” If there’s someone you’d like to know better: (1) send a specific invite, (2) follow up once, (3) follow up again in a month with a new option. Then let it go.

• Strengthen weak ties. Reply to stories, congratulate milestones, and say hi to acquaintances in the wild. Those outer-circle touches add up and often lead to unexpected doors opening. Science.org

• Practice “table stakes” behaviors. Be the one who confirms the plan, arrives roughly on time, and pays attention. You’d be amazed how “boring reliability” becomes magnetic.

• Name the awkward. If you’re out of practice, say so. “I’m rebuilding my social life and feel a bit clunky—thanks for meeting up.” That honesty lowers the pressure for both of you.

A final word (and a friendly challenge)

If you feel lonely, you’re not broken—you’re human. None of us were designed to white-knuckle life solo.

I see the data every day, and I see it in my own life: when friendship gets the same intentionality we give to work or health, everything else lifts.

This week, send one message. Make one small plan. Say yes to one invite. Put one recurring social block on your calendar.

It won’t fix everything overnight. But it will shift you from hoping to building. And that’s where friendships grow.

As I remind myself on tough weeks: small, consistent moves compound. So will yours.