People who say "I'm just bad at friendships" usually refuse to change these 7 patterns

Ever catch yourself saying "I'm just bad at friendships" like it's some unchangeable fact about who you are?

I used to say this all the time. After leaving my finance career, I watched most of my work friendships dissolve and figured maybe I just wasn't cut out for maintaining real connections. It took me years to realize I wasn't bad at friendships. I was just stuck in patterns that kept genuine connection at arm's length.

If you've ever felt like friendship is some mysterious code everyone else cracked but you, chances are you're repeating behaviors that push people away without even realizing it. The good news? Once you spot these patterns, you can actually do something about them.

1. Treating every interaction like a transaction

Remember when you were a kid and friendship was simple? You shared your snacks, played together at recess, and that was that. Somewhere along the way, many of us start keeping mental scorecards. You texted first last time, so now it's their turn. You picked the restaurant, so they should plan the next hangout.

This transactional mindset turns friendship into an exhausting game of checks and balances. Real friendship flows naturally, without tallying who owes what. When I stopped tracking who "invested more" in my friendships, something shifted. The relationships that mattered grew stronger, and the superficial ones naturally fell away.

Think about your closest friendships. Do you keep score? Probably not. That's because genuine connection thrives on generosity, not accounting.

2. Performing instead of connecting

For years, I thought being a good friend meant having the right responses, the perfect advice, and always knowing what to say. I was performing friendship rather than experiencing it. Every conversation felt like an audition where I had to prove I was worth keeping around.

Here's what I learned the hard way: people don't want a friendship performance. They want someone real. When you're constantly curating your responses or hiding behind a "perfect friend" persona, you're not letting anyone actually know you. And how can someone be friends with a person they don't really know?

Start small. Share something messy or imperfect. Admit when you don't have answers. Let people see you on your not-so-great days. Real friendship happens in these unpolished moments, not in the highlight reel.

3. Making everything about you

You know that person who turns every conversation back to themselves? Their friend mentions a tough day at work, and suddenly it becomes a 20-minute monologue about their own job stress?

I realized I was doing a version of this, but in a sneakier way. I'd jump straight into problem-solving mode whenever someone shared something difficult. While it seemed helpful, I was actually hijacking their moment to feel useful and important. Learning to just listen, without offering solutions or relating everything back to my own experiences, transformed my friendships.

Ask yourself: when someone shares something with you, is your first instinct to respond with your own story or to ask them more about theirs?

4. Competing instead of celebrating

I once had a friend who turned everything into a competition. If I mentioned running a 5K, she'd talk about her half-marathon training. If I was excited about a small win at work, she'd counter with her bigger achievement. Eventually, I stopped sharing anything positive because I knew it would become a contest I didn't want to enter.

Competition poisons friendship. When you view friends as rivals rather than allies, you create distance instead of closeness. Real friends celebrate each other's wins without feeling threatened. They understand that someone else's success doesn't diminish their own.

If you find yourself mentally one-upping people or feeling threatened by their achievements, pause. What's driving that need to compete? Often, it's our own insecurity talking.

5. Avoiding vulnerability like it's contagious

Making friends as an adult requires something that feels incredibly risky: vulnerability. You have to show up as yourself, flaws and all, and hope someone thinks you're worth sticking around for.

Many of us armor up instead. We keep conversations surface-level, deflect with humor when things get too real, or maintain careful distance even with people we've known for years. But friendship without vulnerability is like swimming without getting wet. It's just not possible.

Psychologist Jeffrey A. Hall's research shows it takes about 200 hours to develop a close friendship. But those hours mean nothing if you spend them hiding behind walls. One genuine, vulnerable conversation can create more connection than months of small talk.

Start with something small but real. Share a fear, admit a mistake, or ask for help when you need it. Yes, it feels scary. That's how you know you're doing it right.

6. Disappearing when things get inconvenient

Life gets busy. We all have work, family, responsibilities pulling us in different directions. But using busyness as a constant excuse for not showing up in friendships sends a clear message: everything else matters more.

I'm not talking about having a crazy week or needing to reschedule occasionally. I mean the pattern of vanishing when maintaining the friendship requires actual effort. Only reaching out when you need something. Going radio silent during your friend's hard times because you "don't know what to say."

Friendship requires intentional effort, especially as adults. It means sometimes choosing to grab coffee with a friend instead of catching up on Netflix. It means sending that check-in text even when you're exhausted. Not always, but consistently enough that people know they can count on you.

7. Expecting perfection from others while excusing your own flaws

We're often our own harshest critics, except when it comes to friendship failures. We'll forgive ourselves for canceling plans last minute but hold grudges when others do the same. We understand our own complicated reasons for not reaching out but assume others just don't care.

This double standard creates resentment and disappointment. When you expect friends to be mind readers, always available, and never make mistakes while giving yourself endless passes, you're setting up every friendship to fail.

Grace goes both ways. The understanding you want when you mess up? Extend it to others. The benefit of the doubt you hope for? Give it freely. Friendships thrive when both people are allowed to be human.

Final thoughts

Changing these patterns feels uncomfortable because they've probably protected you in some way. Maybe keeping score helped you avoid being taken advantage of. Maybe avoiding vulnerability kept you from getting hurt. These behaviors served a purpose, but they're also keeping you from the connections you crave.

You're not "bad at friendships." You've just learned some habits that aren't serving you anymore. The beautiful thing about patterns is that once you see them, you can choose differently. Not overnight, and not perfectly, but step by step.

Start with one pattern that resonated most. Work on it for a month. Be patient with yourself when you slip back into old ways. Building genuine friendships as an adult is hard work, but it's also some of the most rewarding work you'll ever do.

Because at the end of the day, we all want the same thing: to be known, accepted, and loved for exactly who we are. And that starts with showing up as ourselves, patterns and all, ready to do the work of real connection.