Nothing Stops Us From Making Friends...

...unless you're past 50 and believe that it's "hard" to make friends at your age.



Cherry Grove, Fire Island, deck after storm. Photo by Susan Kravitz

I like people. Most of the time I’m open to meeting them. In part, it’s because of what happened in the summer of 2008 when I was 65. I share this story, which I’ve told privately many times, to illustrate that no matter how old you are, it’s never too late to connect.

It was mid-July, and I was finishing the final draft of Consequential Strangers in a rented house in Cherry Grove, one of the many “towns” on Fire Island, a strip of barrier beach off Long Island, New York. The realtor had shown my partner and me the house months earlier, noting that we’d share the gigantic deck and small pool with three alternating sets of female couples who would reside in the tiny apartment adjacent to the space we occupied.

I didn’t think much about it. The deck seemed large enough to accommodate four women at a time. In retrospect, I was also blinded by the ocean view—with a pool, no less.

Cut to our first week in the house…

The first “other couple” had a string of company throughout the week. Sometimes, one of their guests sat in the lounges at the end of the pool, chairs allotted to our unit. Their guests dipped and dunk themselves throughout the day. So much for swimming laps.

But what bothered me most was that as the other tenants or their friends would walk past our space, many of them peeked in. There I sat in front of floor-to-ceiling glass windows at a tiny desk, trying not to look up. But whenever I sensed a body passing by, curiosity got the best of me, and my eyes met theirs.

I wanted no part of my deck mates. Ironically, I was churning out a book about the importance of cultivating relationships beyond your intimate circle of family and close friends. I didn’t care if the women lounging outside my door fit the description of “consequential strangers.” I had a due date.

This was not the other renters’ fault, of course. I was told they would be there. I just didn’t think it through. It was my proverbial bed to lie in.

I spent the first week gritting my teeth. My partner, a diplomat by profession and personality, urged me to ignore them and concentrate on what I needed to do.

Our visitors, our change agents

Then our dearest friends Carla and Reggie came for a long weekend. I knew both women since the late 80s in Manhattan. After I moved to Massachusetts and sold my apartment in the city, whenever I came to New York I stayed on their pullout couch. They took such good care of me, I began calling them “my wives.”

Reggie and Carla—sadly, now both deceased—didn’t go back as far as college, but they were New Yorkers, my kind of people: smart, funny, irreverent. I bathed in their support and familiarity. Even better, my partner loved them just as much—and vice-versa.

So when Reggie came in from the deck the first day of their visit and said, “Melinda, you have to meet those women—they’re lovely,” referring to the couple-of-the-week, I bristled but begrudgingly got up from my desk and went outside.

“You’ll love them,” Reggie predicted as I followed her through the screen door. One was a psychologist, Reg told me, the other a college dean and photographer. I had no clue that the two strangers on the deck would someday become two of my closest friends and that I would bond differently but no less strongly with each of them.

I’d like to say that it happened immediately, that I softened and embraced the women Reggie raved about—both of whom happened to be named Sue. But, no, I continued to dig my heels in. Standing in the pool next to one of the Sues, I announced, “I don’t need any more friends.”

We laugh about it now. I cringe a little.

What possessed me?

I already had a boatload of friends—sorority sisters I kept in touch with since 1965 when we graduated Syracuse. Friends in Manhattan. Friends from my married years and from my post-divorce years. Friends in Northampton. Friends in Miami.

I certainly didn’t need more acquaintances. Indeed, I was known for picking up random acquaintances everywhere and anywhere I went.

So what was it on? Why my resistance?

Over the years, I claimed it was because I was on deadline, typically a time of laser focus and anxiety. Nearing the finish line for my 13th book—one I’d started three years earlier—I couldn’t be bothered with small talk.

That’s a reasonable thesis, and partly true. But also there is…

…the messages we don’t know we’re internalizing

At 65, I barely understood what “ageism” was. Deadline aside, I suspect I also had internalized the misguided notion that older people don’t forge new friendships. We don’t have the time. Maybe we’re no longer that interesting to others or, worse, invisible. Besides, I already had many relationships of all different types. Did I need to let in two strangers who happened to share the deck?

Of course, none of that is true. There is no expiration date on relationship-building. It’s never “too late,” except on your death bed. Even then…I might connect with my hospice nurse or the aide who changes my diapers!

The point it, you can’t have too many good people in your life. Each of them brings something different to the table—understanding, humor, advice, experience, practical support. And the older you get, the more important it is to connect.

This doesn’t mean you need many people. We all have different tolerances for social interaction. Also, one’s appetite for schmoozing depends on what else is going on. I was writing a book that summer. But I might have been similarly disinclined to meet new people if I had been ill or wrestling with my own or a loved one’s problem.

Clearly, when you need to pull back, it’s important to allow yourself to not socialize, but to use your time for reflection and relaxation. But it’s also important to not make a habit of isolating, and at some point, to reenter the social arena.

If you’re good at relationships, you’re good at life. And the way to get “good” at anything is to keep practicing!

Bottom line: We need a variety of relationships from near-stranger to soulmate. Each person in your life becomes a mirror and a sounding board. Each one gives you new ideas and/or helps you see a fresh approach. We share and have fun; we get to dig our heels in together. Mostly, we need others to make the magic happen—the spell that’s cast when two people truly connect. At any age.

Had I missed the opportunity to connect with the Sues that summer, I would have deprived myself of two deep, satisfying, and sustaining relationships—different with each, but no less important. I would have missed subsequent summers when we purposely scheduled our weeks on Fire Island to overlap. I would have forgone the pleasure of endless dinners and visits and birthday celebrations and lots of laughter. And I would have never been asked to step out of my comfort zone to do something I’d never done before (and probably won’t do again for anyone else): officiate at the Sues’ 2017 wedding, a celebration of their (then) 44 years together!

The one-time rabbi. Photo by Susan Kravitz, partner magically removed by ChatGPT

I’m Melinda Blau…thanks for stopping by…

I’m a journalist, author of 16 books, including Consequential Strangers, and a host/producer for Crow’s Feet: Life As We Age. If you’re anxious about “getting old” (something we do from birth) and wonder how my much-older friends helped me embrace aging instead of dreading it, pick up a copy of The Wisdom Whisperers: Golden Guides to a Long Life of Grit, Grace, and Laughter. Their stories will give you hope and make you laugh and cry.

…one final thought

A shout-out to Karen Salmansohn for her coinage of “you-ier,” a quality that makes you unique—in writing and in life. Ask anyone in my social convey, this piece reflects who I am!

Full disclosure: I’m a fan and friend of Karen’s. In fact, our relationship reflects the point of this piece. She’s the age I was when I met the Sues. I’m now 82, still making new friends up and down the age ladder.

If you’re curious and have a spare half-hour, Karen and I did a Substack Live recently!