3 posts shown.
Paul Howard9 said:To be honest, I just felt like something was off. Another factor is that I don't stay in one place for long. It's true—everything takes time, and frankly, finding the time is hard enough... let alone finding the stability. One day I'm here, the next I'm somewhere else entirely. This lifestyle comes at a significant cost.
That seems to be a completely different set of circumstances. Your situation might also have a social component, considering what you mentioned in your first post regarding your experiences throughout elementary school, high school, and college. It is possible that because of all that, you’ve become incredibly distrustful of new people, which leads to you jumping from one thing to the next. But we can only speculate since we don't truly know you.
However, your primary obstacle right now is the constant moving and the lack of time for people due to your career. There isn't much anyone can suggest to you in that regard. People get married, they divorce, they quit jobs, they take on new roles, they move abroad, they return from overseas, they change careers, they go on trips, they come back from trips, and so on—all in an attempt to find or build whatever it is they feel is missing in their lives at any given moment.
Paul Howard9 said:My childhood is mostly a blur—I was living in another country back then, though I have zero connection to that place now since I was far too young to remember much. Elementary school was just a series of superficial friendships, and I eventually switched schools because of bullying... honestly, things were even worse at the second one.
High school was... mediocre, I suppose. People were mostly indifferent—socializing only when they needed help with homework or a hand during exams (I was exceptionally gifted in certain subjects, if I do say so myself). About halfway through, I went through something truly ugly that just made me withdraw even further. It was pretty depressing.
Surface-level friendships—it’s all just for grabbing drinks, I guess. When it comes to actually having a real conversation? Zero. It's all incredibly shallow and empty.
Work colleagues... hm. They were always the last people I wanted to engage with—mostly because I've been part of some pretty cutthroat environments where sabotage wasn't just common, it was dangerous. In those circles, everyone seemed obsessed with prying into private lives or gossiping over coffee breaks, none of which ever really interested me. Plus, having worked across so many different sites, I figured it was probably best to just stay reserved.
My hobbies are fairly "introverted"—not that I mind—they're more solitary pursuits than group activities.
Feeling a bit too different—it’s something one could spend a fair amount of time ruminating on—but I suppose I can say that, in certain respects, I am quite unlike most people.
I suppose I wouldn't call myself the neurodivergent type—not exactly an Aspen. I have certain talents, I guess, and my brain tends to move quite fast at times. I can read people, sense things, formulate thoughts, learn quickly—and yes, I am creative.
Carl Cox3, that’s clear as day—we can't kid ourselves—it's practically non-existent.
I suppose I don't really go looking for people—they tend to find me instead. Life has essentially liberated me from the weight of prejudice; whether someone is wealthy or broke, healthy or ill, highly educated or otherwise... it doesn't change much for me. They usually end up walking away quite quickly, though—mostly because I have no interest in meeting their expectations.
Exploitation—well, that was an issue until my freshman year of college. After that, I simply didn't have the bandwidth to deal with anyone trying to take advantage of me. Nowadays, it's practically impossible, since I've stripped away almost everything I would consider a potential vulnerability.
You’ve left me a bit puzzled. If people are approaching you, that's generally a positive sign. You can't definitively conclude that people leave because you failed to meet their expectations; that seems like a conclusion drawn without much evidence. I doubt they actually told you that's why they stopped reaching out. Even a close friend of fifteen years doesn't always tell me exactly what they're thinking, let alone someone I've known for only a month or two. It seems more likely that there's just a natural cycle of people entering and leaving your life. Perhaps my own mother is the only one who tells me things exactly as they are. We all maintain an inner world that we don't share with others. From your post, it sounds as though you might not have taken the initiative when it mattered most.
In my view, the reason people drift away is tied to how friendships are built—through shared experiences, which require time. Casual coffee dates and occasional chats aren't enough. You can meet someone and feel an instant connection, yet nothing ever comes of it. This has happened to me countless times. To build something lasting, you have to be willing to 1. invest, and 2. be vulnerable (albeit with a healthy dose of caution).
I have navigated this myself, and honestly, I am still working through it. I don't want to claim I’ve "solved" this issue, because I believe connecting with others is a lifelong practice that requires constant attention.
My history is quite telling: zero friends from elementary school, two from high school—though we didn't truly bond until after graduation—zero from college, and everyone else was met later in life through various stages of adulthood. Today, I have about ten people I consider true friends, a mix of men and women.
Building a friendship takes time for some of us; for me, it usually takes about two years of consistent effort and self-reflection. It isn't enough to simply grab coffee and chat; you need shared experiences. That is how bonds are forged—by going through things together. Post-school, that might mean road trips, taking a class, or playing sports.
I have stopped idealizing friendship and have generally lowered my expectations of people. The notion that a friend must be someone who understands me perfectly or is available at every single moment has completely evaporated. I used to have so few friends I could count them on one hand. While there is nothing inherently wrong with that, I wanted more people in my circle and was willing to make certain compromises—provided I kept my boundaries firm.
My friendships vary significantly. My male friends and female friends offer different things, as do the men among themselves and the women among themselves. For instance, my male friends aren't the type to comfort me if some guy breaks my heart, nor do I expect them to. However, that doesn't mean they lack depth. They provide practical value: advice on dating, help picking out tech gear, or fixing my phone or computer when it crashes. We watch games together, play darts, talk politics, or discuss fitness and nutrition if they are gym regulars. There is always something to engage on.
Approaching people without prejudice is easier said than done. I always considered myself an open-minded, liberal person, yet somehow I subconsciously avoided socializing with anyone outside my academic bubble after high school (even though I finished my degree). In the last few years, I became close with two guys who only finished high school, and they have been one of the greatest surprises of my life. Sure, they don't know anything about psychology or philosophy, but they are the first ones there when I need help assembling furniture. We talk movies and music, and they are much more spontaneous than my female friends when it comes to activities like camping or hiking. In return, I help them with things I excel at, like drafting cover letters for jobs or prepping for interviews. I genuinely enjoy their company.
Speaking of breaking prejudices, I also formed a wonderful friendship with a woman who is retired. She shares a similar life story to mine, allowing her to understand me on a level that none of my other friends can reach. Every so often, we go out for dessert or a shopping trip.
As for being taken advantage of, there is no simple recipe. You will always encounter all kinds of people. The key is building self-confidence so you don't allow others to erode it, while practicing better judgment. It is possible. But the premise that everyone is bad or purely self-serving leads nowhere, and I refuse to believe it.