What happened when I tried to recruit a friend
And what the experience obliges, going forward
Dear Friend,
Before anything else, I want to say thank you.
If you filled out the screening survey, wrote a reflection, responded to a Note, or just followed along - thank you. You gave this experiment its humanity and its meaning. You also added hope and perspective to the end of my year, and for that I’m especially grateful.
So, to wrap things up with gratitude, here’s my take on what happened - and what I learned along the way.
Why I ran this experiment
It’s different in our 20s and 30s: friendships then usually come from proximity and serendipity - from classrooms and dorms, workplaces and shared apartments, shared chaos.
But as we grow older, something shifts.
Time becomes more finite. Energy becomes more precious. Social circles change through moves, parenthood, grief, burnout, and reinvention. Connection as we knew it doesn’t disappear exactly, but it does often require more intention than chance. Actual effort and investment are involved.
I ran this experiment because I was curious whether that intention could be designed for - and I wanted to know: I wanted to see if it would be possible to connect where I was as I was, if that could be enough.
What the process revealed
Firstly, the obvious: there was actually more interest than I expected. And I don’t mean interest in me specifically - but actually in the premise, in the questions, and in reflection. I think many people took the opportunity to connect with themselves and their values, above anyone else.
But through that process, people let me see who they were through the different contexts they would shine in.
I saw some people came alive in writing.
I saw others open up in group conversation.
Some people were quiet at first, then vivid in a 1:1.
Some didn’t click for me until after their preferred method of connection was activated.
Each stage of the process revealed a different facet of people, demonstrating how limited any single filter can be.
And, in truth, I saw not every aspect of this worked consistently:
Writing wasn’t for everyone; it was my preferred means of connection.
Not everyone could or wanted to schedule calls.
Life, time zones, and energy impose very real constraints.
So, no, this method didn’t work for everyone; I did, in fact, filter for specific types of people to connect with through this. Thus, quantitatively, no, this wasn’t and wasn’t meant to be a numerical success… but it was a qualitative victory in a way:
Because at the end of this, I learned this worked unexpectedly well as a process of community co-creation: group interviews felt safe and engaging, people followed up with one another independently, and generosity was offered without any guarantee of outcome.
So beyond this month and beyond myself - and more than any individual selection process - there were group moments that truly mattered.
What I learned (the heart of it)
This experience did clarify a few things for me - about friendship, about myself, and about how connection grows. I’ll likely expand on this at some point, but my initial thoughts are as follows:
Friendship requires more than hope.
It needs opportunity, intention, alignment, and time. This one-month experiment couldn’t provide extended time, no - but it could sow opportunity, intention, and alignment such that sprigs of resonance validated something to be a fertile base for continuation. It could find and filter connections worth the time to grow into friendships.
Compatibility is chemistry + circumstance.
And this, by the way, is not a moral judgment or an elitist stance. It’s simply acknowledging that connection is often about whether two sets of wonderfully odd, jagged human edges happen to fit together within the social jigsaw life hands us. Sometimes it happens, and it’s a beautiful experience when it does. But the happenstance of location and circumstance are not enough to guarantee a meaningful fit: no matter what box we’re currently in, sometimes we’re just pieces from different puzzles.
Becoming the friend to others begins with befriending oneself.
This sounds like a fortune cookie proverb, but it’s still true: Knowing what gives you peace, what drains you, what you can offer, and what you need is essential to form sustaining connections. Self-reflection in friendship-making isn’t indulgent, then; it’s social infrastructure.
Energy after interaction matters.
Connection has an impact. Throughout this experiment and as an evaluative criteria, I paid attention to how interactions left me - clearer, lighter, depleted, inspired. It’s subjective, but it’s a signal worth listening to. And it’s ethical to act based on impact.
Healthy closure is a skill.
This experiment asked me to confront one of my hardest social edges: setting boundaries and redirecting connections with clarity and kindness instead of avoidance. I learned that rejection can be humane when expectations are explicit - and that closure doesn’t negate care.
Endings, I’ve learned, are often just healthy beginnings in disguise.
What participants gave each other
Again, one of the most meaningful outcomes wasn’t about me at all.
The group interviews mattered.
People made space for one another.
Curiosity, care, and generosity showed up, even without certainty of reward.
Seeing people find their people - even when it wasn’t me - was absolutely a gift.
What did (and didn’t) happen
Not everyone spoke up.
Not everyone leaned in.
Not every positive conversation became a close friendship, no.
Some people stepped forward; others stepped back, myself included at times. And that’s not a criticism of anyone or anything. It’s just discernment; it’s agency and intention applied.
As an outcome, yes, I found a few people whom I’ll actively include in my life in some ways, others whom I’m still glad to know and will be happy to bump into or interact with when I do.
For a person with limited bandwidth, this process found and filtered people whom I’d like to invest more time into. So, for me… it was valuable.
What happens next
The official experiment has concluded, but it’s not disappearing altogether.
I plan to keep writing occasional letters and questions, actually: it’s an exercise in curiosity and connection that I’ve found to be personally edifying. If I share them here, you’re welcome to stay, to lurk, to participate, or to unsubscribe. All of that is okay.
If there’s interest, I might continue to host occasional group calls (monthly or quarterly), depending on schedules and energy.
I’m also in the beginning of exploring whether this process - adapted and diversified beyond writing - could help others seed their own micro-communities of resonance. Not as a promise of friendship… but as a process and a place where connections have a fair chance to grow.
January will be for listening, thinking, scoping, and co-creation. February or March onward, perhaps, for some light testing.
No guarantees. Just, as always, curiosity and care, applied.
And if this experience gave you even one moment of reflection, of resonance, or recognition - with me, with others, or with yourself - then, ya know… I think it did what it needed to do.
So, yes… thank you for sharing. Thank you for showing up exactly as you are.
Always,
Laura