I stopped asking people to dinner

And I still have friends

That’s exactly what I would have said.

I laugh. I know.

My therapist continues, now serious. How will your friends initiate if you don’t give them the opportunity to?

I was afraid no one would.

Well now you know.

Now I know.

Dinner in three weeks?

For as long as I remember, I was always the person who initiated. Coffees, breakfasts, lunches, dinners, drinks—I’d always know how long it had been since I’d seen someone, and when I deemed it time to reconnect, I’d reach out.

I took pride in this proactivity, considered it a testament to my pristine organisation and commitment to friendships. I do this because I want to take responsibility for making and keeping friends. I don’t want to put the burden on others. This is a good thing.

But what I told myself and what I knew to be true were two different things. I wasn’t going first because I was taking responsibility for my social life. I went first because I feared if I didn’t, no one would.

My partner also knew this. And for years he’d nudged, a suggestion my therapist now echoed: How will you know you have friends if you don’t give them the opportunity to show you?

For years I’d resisted, claiming I’d established an unchangeable pattern with all of my friends and that really, it’s fine, I don’t mind initiating. Yet all along I lived in fear, convinced I’d never meet any of my friends ever again if I stopped asking them out.

Do you want to grab coffee sometime?

Until two weeks ago, when I had this conversation with my partner for the tenth time and finally decided to take his advice.

I’m not sure what changed. Two months of therapy had made me more attuned to my predispositions—only took me 35 years to realise I’m an incredibly anxious person—and I had resolved to get better at letting go. But also I was tired. And a tiny bit curious.

My partner and I were wrapping up our holiday in Bangkok, and I restrained myself from filling my first week back in Ho Chi Minh City with coffees and lunches and dinners, to see if anyone would reach out once they knew I was back from my daily Instagram stories.

Turns out I didn’t have to wait. Days before our return, a close friend messaged to see how I was doing and: Do you want to grab a drink when you’re back? I was pleased but not yet reassured—he had been one of the few who’d always checked in on me, so his taking initiative was not sufficient to dispel my fear.

But then I got back to Ho Chi Minh City and within the first few days two people I’d wanted to befriend had asked me out—Do you want to grab coffee sometime?—and I had two meals in my calendar that two different friends had initiated.

My friends initiated! I excitedly reported the result of my experiment to my partner, then my therapist. I have friends, is the hypothesis I confirmed to myself. And for the past two weeks I’ve been walking on air.

It seems silly now, looking back, that I believed so completely that none of my friends would have asked to hang out with me if not prompted to at regular intervals. I see now this came from a place of insecurity—no one wants to be friends with me—and distrust—no one can get their act together to maintain our friendship.

Yet as recently as two weeks ago, my fear was real and unshakeable, as solidly rooted as my belief in my non-worthiness, which I wrote about last October.

As my fear has faded, so has weakened this belief. It’s still lurking in the recesses of my mind, but with time, I hope to one day believe, truly believe, I am worthy of friendship.

Until then, I’ll have to keep giving my friends the opportunity to show up, and see who chooses to.

What do you think?

To be honest, even with mounting evidence that my friends can be trusted to claim space on my calendar, it’s still going to be tough for me to hold back, to not go first as I always have.

Are you (also) that person who always initiates?

Why do you go first? Why not? Please hit “reply” or leave a comment—I read every response and I’d love to hear from you. If you want, share this post with a friend before they share it with you.

Until next Friday… Stay thoughtful,

Val