Making friends in later life can be tricky. Photo / 123RF
Forming and sustaining important relationships can get trickier as we age, but that doesn't mean you should give up hope.
Making friends in later life is tricky, for all sorts of reasons. From the playground to college, from the workplace to the school gate when we have children, we tend to accumulate pals along the way.
But even while we're amassing friends, we lose them, too – they move away or abroad, we perhaps divorce and some of those we were friends with as a couple go over to "the other side" or they just aren't good at having singles round their table.
And then, if you have always been single and/or without children, all those loved-up parents you used to go clubbing with are no longer available in the way they once were.
Maybe your partner dies and you suddenly realise that in your couple bubble you allowed certain friendships to drift. So by the time we get to 50 or over, some of us find ourselves feeling as though we'd like to broaden out our social circle.
The question is how? There's something embarrassing, almost shameful, about owning up to wanting more friends. Or admitting to loneliness. You feel vulnerable, you worry people you approach might not like you, that you'll get rejected. It all feels like a bit of a minefield. Or you may feel that if you don't have enough friends by now, you must be somehow lacking – perhaps even unworthy.
But not only is it possible to make friends in later life, it's important. Friendship is good for us. Having friends is a strong predictor of happiness and life satisfaction. A 2010 report in the Journal of Health and Social Behaviour said strong social ties can even boost your immune system and help you live longer. Areas identified as Blue Zones, from Okinawa in Japan to the island of Icaria in Greece, all have low rates of chronic disease and people there live unusually long lives. Common to all these zones – alongside good diets and plenty of physical activity – are strong friendships.
One treasured friendship I made at university. Not from the time when I was a teenage college dropout, though, but 40 years later when I went back to uni to do a degree (and this time see it through) at the age of 57. It had been a tough couple of years. My husband and I had separated and my son had left the nest. I felt I needed a new challenge, out of my comfort zone, and to meet new people.
Although Birkbeck, where I went, is designed for mature students, I was easily the oldest student in my cohort: older than a lot of the lecturers, too. But just like in the school playground, where you'd look at someone and think, "I want to be her friend", that's what occurred to me when I looked at Sarah Muscat. She was bright and forthright and not afraid to speak out, though I soon realised that, like me, she wasn't sure she was up to standard when it came to studying.
Tentatively at first, and despite a wide age gap, we found we had a kind of chemistry. In the early days we joined others in the student bar, but soon we discovered a glamorous cocktail bar in a nearby grand hotel, and that's where we repaired to after classes for a G&T and fierce discussions about feminism, fashion, politics and literature. I was thrilled to have this new friend in my life, it was so easy for us to be emotionally open with one another. And when she invited me to her 50th, a women-only bash of her longest-standing pals, I was touched and delighted.
Fast-forward 13 years from when I met Sarah and now, approaching 70, I am again thinking I could do with some new friends. In the past couple of years, three good friends have died, two have withdrawn from the world – and the fun we had together – because of ongoing illness, a couple have moved out of town and one I fell out with (it happens). "Not only could I do with new friends," I bleated to my partner – whom I met 12 years ago at a mutual friend's party – "I could do with some younger ones as well."
In some ways, whether you want to make new friends or find a new lover, the same principles apply.
As Jenny Rogers, an executive coach who often finds herself devoting coaching sessions to the art of friendship, says: "After my husband died 11 years ago I said yes to everything that came my way for at least a year. I had known for at least five years before his death that I would be on my own, so finding new friends became a project.
"In my work as an executive coach, the business of lacking friends frequently comes up. People often say that family life is OK but they've lost touch with friends and acquaintances over the years."
According to Jenny, people get out of practice at the art of making friends whereas research shows that "people who share interests often share temperaments, so that has to be one of the best ways of meeting new people". Or as my friend Sarah, whose fascination with interior design led to her joining a social/networking club for those interested in or working in the field, asserts: "There's only one way to make new friends, and that's to put yourself out there."
For those looking for love in later life, but who feel less than comfortable with looking online, expanding your friendship group through activities is the way to go. The more people you meet, the more likely you are to find someone you spark with romantically.
Making new friends has never been a problem for Nadia Marks, a former art director and now a successful novelist – but when her partner and father of their two children walked out, after almost 40 years of marriage, she felt bereft. "Despite having friends it was a lonely time. There were two women who lived quite near me (we'd only met once) and one of them was a masseuse. The stress was making everything ache and I contacted her and started having regular massages.
"She reached out and invited me for dinner with her and her wife Aisha Ali. Aisha and I got on really well, she was so warm and open and our personalities quickly clicked. When Aisha started having marital problems of her own it was my turn to reach out to her.
"I'm with my new partner Mike now, but Aisha and I have remained friends for more than a decade. It doesn't matter to me if I meet someone professionally or personally – if we click, there's room for friendship to grow. My motto is to always be open, don't isolate yourself and friendships will happen. It's important to be prepared to let people into your life. Not everyone can be your 'sister', but friends are so vital to our wellbeing that there's no such thing as having too many."
For Nadia's friend Aisha, who describes herself as a shamanic psychotherapist who helps people transform their relationships, life is like a series of chapters in a book and we may need different friends for different chapters.
"When I met Nadia," she says, "I could see she needed to rebuild her sense of identity, and felt lots of compassion for her. We laughed a lot, too, and bonded over a mutual love of books by Colette."
Friends don't always like us to change, and can't always change with us, Aisha believes, so we may need to reach out to new people at different stages of our lives.
Building friendships takes time and that process mirrors some of the elements of romantic relationships. "At first you might find yourself infatuated," says Jenny. "Then you start to see the differences, like your political views perhaps. And maybe, then, you feel like running away. But hang in there. The more realistic phase, the phase of true intimacy, comes later. It could take up to two years to make a rock-solid friendship."
Whereas dating apps and online dating have gone mainstream, and are fast becoming as acceptable to those over 50 as to the younger age groups, there's a new trend afoot that suggests friending may well become the new dating.
Locals.org is a new app (currently only available on iOS) that recognises that to combat loneliness, which can afflict those of all ages, people need to meet in real life as well as on screen. It's one of a small but fast-expanding group of new social networks that enables you to meet through activities and experiences. And in the case of locals.org with the nice added touch of making a contribution to a charity whenever you attend an event.
Once you've joined up you can set up an event yourself or take part in someone else's. So far, activities have ranged from picnics in the park with dogs and wine to sound healing workshops led by a Tibetan monk.
New friends are out there, waiting to be found. Here's to happy new friendship in 2022.
• Map your network and identify people you like and with whom you've lost contact, suggests coach Jenny Rogers. Get in touch via email or LinkedIn or Facebook.
• Get a dog. Everyone will want to know your dog and no one will have qualms about approaching you via your four-legged friend. It will most likely lead to meet-ups in the park for walks and coffee with new acquaintances. Not keen on dogs? Join a walking group instead.
• For evening outings, joining a supper club is a great idea. Far less scary than walking on your own into a pub where you don't know anyone. Search for local clubs that welcome newcomers and singles.
• You have learned, through your romantic relationships, that rejection is inevitable. Not everyone wants to be your new best friend but some will be delighted to have your company.
• Accept all invitations – whether they are work or social. It's easy to think you'll skip this one because you're tired. But if you want to meet people you have to be bothered.
• Check out apps and websites such as nextdoor.com for meeting people in your neighbourhood. Or meetup.com for finding events you'd like to join in with.
• Volunteer. Host an event for a charity. Through charitable activities you will expand your network.
• Go to classes that chime with your interests. Look for University of the Third Age activities in your area. Even online classes involving discussion groups can lead to new friendships.
• Remember what Dale Carnegie said: "You can make more friends in two months by becoming interested in other people than you can in two years by trying to get other people interested in you."
'The combination of giving up alcohol and going to a supper club for the first time, where I knew no one, felt like one of the bravest acts of my life.
It was four years ago and I was at a point where I was feeling quite depressed and needing to sort myself out a bit, as well as to meet new people and make new friends. I don't have kids and at the time I was single.
I knew that in order to make new connections I'd have to put myself out there and that without the help of alcohol to smooth out the edges it would be hard.
The first event I attended was terrifying. Although it welcomed newcomers, quite a few people knew one another and there was a sense of joyousness that I wasn't a part of. Looking back though I can confidently say some of those people have become really good friends of mine.
One of the best things about it was that it was a group who loved to organise things. Following that first supper I went for a weekend to Wales with some of them. Then I was invited on a sailing trip and got onto a mailing list from something called ZeCrew (which advertise themselves as low-carbon adventures) and found myself as part of a flotilla sailing off the coast of Italy.
All these people I've met feel like my kind of people – like me, they all love to have fun – but I admit it was a real challenge at first.
The thing is, at the beginning, there's bound to be this fear of being rejected. You want to feel accepted, be part of the crowd, you want people to like and want you there – it seems like a massive risk.
Now I can say I'm proud of myself for doing this.
I made a pact with myself that I wouldn't seek out love or a relationship while looking for friends because the two need different tactics and if you start sleeping with anyone in your social group it's not good. My mindset was fixed on friendship, not a boyfriend.
Having lost my mum when I was 14, and my dad 13 years ago, for the most part it's friends who make up my family. My good girlfriends make me feel safe, and that's so important. But four years ago I did feel the need to branch out.
Often it's the things we are scared of or run away from that we need to do. You have no idea what the outcome is going to be. When I went along to the supper club it could have been a dead end, but it wasn't. It worked out.
And then, when I felt good about myself, I met Nick, who's a master craftsman. We've now been dating for two and a half years.
We were both at the same small festival in Somerset. It's an annual dance music festival called the Orchard and set in the beautiful grounds of a manor house. I went with a couple of friends and joint-camped with a couple of male friends who brought Nick along.
I had dated online in the past, but mainly in my 30s. I'm not against online dating – my sister has been in a long-term relationship with someone she met through My Single Friend, and one friend married someone she met on Tinder – but I've never had much success with it myself.
It's no coincidence that I met Nick and formed a relationship when I did. By then I was in a happy place, with a new bunch of friends and feeling comfortable with myself.'
'Some of the people in my very casual culture club have taken to calling me Ticketmeister.
Almost 20 years ago I became very aware that there were things, culturally, I wanted to go to – especially theatre and music – that my very busy wife was not always up for. I didn't necessarily want to go on my own, so I started to contact people I knew and discovered there was a real appetite for doing these things as part of a small group. The email list began to expand to friends of friends, some of whom I'd never met, and it has got to a point where my contact list is over 200 people.
The result has been that I've formed new friendships and people in the group have formed new friendships, too. I suppose there is a degree of social engineering. If I've got, say, 30 tickets, I can't just let people scramble randomly for seats, so I do a spreadsheet and I find myself thinking, 'These two might get along,' and then I put them next to one another. And the results are generally going to be more interesting than if you put people next to one another who are already acquainted.
I've had one romantic success, although it came about by accident. It was an event at St Paul's Cathedral. A friend rang at the last minute to say she couldn't come and she was sending along a male friend instead. I'd already decided who this friend was going to be sitting next to and I left the seating plan as organised. Later on we were all having a drink and I noticed the two of them were still chatting away. I remember saying to the people I was talking to, "I'll just go over there," and one of them pulled me back and said, "Leave them alone." I was oblivious to the chemistry. Not long after that night I heard they'd formed a relationship.
When it came to lockdown, the outings had to stop. But I realised there was a lot of great stuff online – like the nightly broadcasts from the Metropolitan Opera. I decided to send a sort-of newsletter to the group to let them know what was on – a Netflix film, a podcast, maybe even an interesting article could be included. And I called my first newsletter Staying Connected: 1 and soon I became the repository for things other people had come across and wanted to share. Staying Connected got up to about issue 15 before life started opening up again.
It all brought home to me people's need for connection and community. For those in relationships it was easier, but for those on their own, for them to have human contact, even remotely, became very important. And this actually expanded the group still further, because what was pretty London-centric ended up going as far afield as Cape Town.
Friendship becomes more important as we get older because generally there are fewer opportunities for meeting people. One friend who started a new relationship said, "We met at a mutual friend's funeral." That's seems to be another stage we're at!
Some people are very protective about their friends – afraid they will lose them if they introduce them to others in their circle. I want my friends to like one another and become friends with one another, too. That's been one of the great pleasures of doing this.
I do have friends who go right back. We feel secure and safe in those relationships and you can share memories and things you might possibly not feel you can share with newer friends. But at the same time it's very exciting to meet new people and form new friendships, whatever stage of life you're at.'
Broadcaster has written a new book about the joys of getting older.