“There are moments when I feel like a fish out of water gasping for connection in a place that once felt so familiar.”
One of the quieter truths about aging is how your social circle changes, often shrinking. Sometimes it is the result of loss, but sometimes it’s because of growth. YOURS.
Over the years, I’ve watched my circle get smaller. It was never that big. I learned early, you only have a few true friends, and the rest are acquaintances. Then you have your, as my sister calls them, “EVO” folks. And no, that doesn’t stand for extra virgin olive oil. EVO stands for, “entertainment value only.” We often confuse this group with real friends, but as you get older and wiser, you can easily identify them.
I moved away for a time and had a whole other social circle for a while, which was cool. Many of those folks were definitely EVO folks, but they were fun and interesting. Meanwhile, back home, my long-time social circle was definitely shrinking. At first, I thought it was something to mourn, a sign of isolation, or maybe even failure on my part. But I’ve come to see it differently. Some people simply drift away because our paths no longer run parallel. The things we once shared, no longer fit who we’ve become or are becoming.
Like some marriages, some friendships fall apart. What’s the saying? Some folks are with you for a reason or a season, or something like that! I’m too lazy right now to look it up. And like marriage, people often want to fight it and to hold on. Now, I understand that outgrowing people isn’t cruel; it’s natural. It means I’m still evolving. Maybe they are as well. Hell, maybe they outgrew me!
And then there are the losses that aren’t by choice. The friends and loved ones we lose to time, distance, or death. These absences can leave a void and a space that never fully closes. Sometimes you fill the void with new things or new folks. But those times remind me that nothing, not even connection, is permanent.
I won’t pretend it’s easy. Growth can feel isolating. There are moments when I feel like a fish out of water gasping for connection in a place that once felt so familiar. You find yourself in the same conversations, the same routines, with the same company and you realize it just doesn’t feed your spirit the way they used to. You’ve changed, but not everyone around you has. And while that can also be a good thing, it can still feel isolating. That stretch of space and time between chapters can be challenging.
And don’t get me wrong. You still love the people in your life deeply, but feel like they no longer understand what you’re reaching for. That’s when growth can feel lonely. You find yourself in between worlds: no longer who you were, not yet who you’re becoming. Passage feels more like punishment.
As I age, there has also been a shift in what I value. My time feels more precious now. When there is less of something, you tend to value it more. (Supply and demand.) My energy too. People and situations either energize us or deplete us of energy. I no longer give away my energy or time so freely. I’ve learned that my peace must be protected, and not everyone gets an invitation into that space.
But there’s another kind of distance that comes with aging; the one between those who are still living, and those who have stopped. I’ve seen people who, somewhere along the way, stopped reaching for anything. They’re not growing anymore; they’re just waiting. Waiting for the next appointment, the next meal, the next day, the next weekend; existing rather than living. That energy is exhausting to me. It’s heavy. If you’re not careful, it can start to pull you down too.
Still, there are moments when I feel very lonely. I mean “deeply” lonely. Growth can be isolating and even painful when you realize you can’t go back to who you were or where you’ve been. Sometimes you look around and realize there are fewer people who truly understand you now. But even in that loneliness, there’s clarity. There’s peace in knowing that you’re staying true to your path, even if fewer people are walking it with you.
I’ve learned to recognize the difference between someone walking beside me and someone standing still. Maybe it’s a blessing and maybe it’s a curse, but there is no standing still for me. Sure, we’re all headed in the same direction. (The dirt, if that’s your plan! Ya’ll better not put me in some dirt!) We are all heading toward the inevitable truth of aging, but I’m sorry, I’m just not going out like that!
I’m trying to walk with purpose and while I’m still not 100% sure what that is, I’m not done trying. I still want to experience, to learn, to laugh, to evolve. I don’t want to JUST exist all the way through it.
Aging has taught me that losing people isn’t always a loss. Sometimes, it’s how we make room for peace, for new people, and for life. It ain’t easy, but it’s for damn sure necessary.
My social circle has shrunken solely due to reasons as varied as betrayal, distrust, physical distance, colliding opinions, politics and varying levels and degrees of ambition. Some relationships, even as they’re just beginning, reveal themselves to be merely temporary or transactional. With that knowledge, suspension or termination isn’t devastating or even barely noticeable. Solid, lasting connections are usually limited to but a handful of others that fit our parameters and definitions of loyalty and reliability.