Making Friends as an Introvert

As an introvert, the most challenging part of making friends is engaging someone new in conversation or trying to join an established group. Why? Breaking the ice is problematic because it requires talking, which is exhausting and takes effort. I’m not a fan of conversing just for the sake of it; small talk, in particular, drains me.

However, a few years ago, I realized that if I wanted to build a brand focused on helping women heal, I would need to step out of my comfort zone and embrace change. I was willing to learn how to listen to conversations I had no interest in because I cared about the people having them.

I tried for a long time but must have engaged with the wrong people because I encountered rebuffs that could have put me off making friends forever. At that point, I considered retreating to my small, well-curated circle, where it’s safe and everyone knows and accepts my idiosyncrasies.

Those rejections nearly succeeded in pushing me back into my comfort zone. But I was determined to reach more people and grow. I also wanted to prove I wasn’t stuck-up, unfriendly, or arrogant—labels often unfairly assigned to introverts. At that time, I let others’ opinions dictate too much of my actions.

It’s never wise to change for others, but I must admit that proving that I was friendly influenced my decisions. With this in mind, I decided to befriend and support my husband’s friend’s wife. Even if we didn’t become close, connecting over shared interests like cooking and food would be nice.

She wanted to change her diet and didn’t know where to start, so I saw this as my opportunity. I’ve been plant-based for many years and consider myself an okay cook, so I offered to help.

I still remember the anticipation that morning in the kitchen as I made breakfast for my family and discussed vegan food. It seemed like the perfect opening. “I’m going to make myself friendly,” I thought.

My husband, who doesn’t fully understand the nuances of being an introvert, always says, “Those who want friends must make themselves friendly.” He has many sound bites for different situations.

So, I thought her interest in veganism was an excellent opportunity and said, “Since you work near our house, maybe we could meet for a drink sometime. I’d be happy to share some recipes and tips.”

At that moment, it felt like the air left the room. We looked at each other, and I saw a fierce look in this woman’s eyes. My gut told me what was coming next—it was a feeling I’d experienced before.

The conversation went like this: “I don’t have many women friends…”

I thought, “Me too.” But I didn’t share that this experiment allowed me to step out of my comfort zone. What was the point if it wasn’t going well? For years after one difficult rejection, I retreated to where I felt comfortable.

I returned to the present to hear her say, “I don’t need women friends; I’m not that kind of person. I have all I need.” It felt like being kicked in the gut again.
I smiled and said, “That’s okay.”

Over time, I’ve realized that when women say, “I don’t have women friends,” it’s not about me. It dawned on me that I was trying to connect with the wrong people. Not everyone can be “your people.” I wasn’t asking for a deep sisterhood; I didn’t need to hear her secrets— I was asking to meet up, share recipes, and maintain an acquaintance. But I wonder if the possibility of a closer connection scared her. Was she worried she’d have to share things she didn’t want to?

As difficult as that experience was, I learned the power and courage to put myself out there and risk rejection.

We all probably fear rejection. It’s uncomfortable, shaming, and can be traumatic. The feelings that accompany rejection can linger for a long time. They can be messy, and some people remain in shame for years without the right tools to help them release shame.

Rejection can stir up feelings of inadequacy, making you question your worth—especially when the people you’re trying to connect with don’t see the value you offer.

I have learnt that no one can make me feel ashamed, and the feelings associated with rejection are not necessarily the actions of the person but thoughts I already had about myself.

If I enter the conversation feeling inadequate, someone’s decision not to engage with me can influence feelings of shame that can make me question my value. They didn’t ask my value; I did.

Releasing feelings of shame and choosing not to be impacted by rejection sent me processing origin stories connected to loss, abandonment, and rejection. I took time to understand the stories that shaped my understanding of myself and the stories that still existed that triggered feelings of rejection.

Taking a closer look at those stories and doing the work to process and heal gave me the tools to make a different choice each time I feel rejected. In those moments, I could choose to accept feelings of shame or to feel something else.

I can own the sadness associated with rejection, comfort myself, and choose to move forward. I can also tell myself why I feel the way I do and decide to release those emotions.

Our thoughts influence how we feel, so it is crucial always to be mindful of them. Cognitive distortions, such as mind reading, can cloud judgment and influence incorrect feelings.

Despite this, I continue to step out of my comfort zone and face the fear of rejection in my efforts to connect with women. The world is a lonely place, and many are searching for community. We can be open to genuine connections that help us and the people we connect with.

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