Belonging Again.

Belonging Again.

By Ollie

I’m writing this on the train home from London after spending the weekend celebrating a friend’s birthday. Beforehand, I’d been caught up in stress — booking trains, sorting accommodation, worrying about what could go wrong. But once I finally let go of the anxiety, I had a wonderful time.

Friendship has always been complicated for me. As a child I was painfully shy — too nervous to speak, too insecure to put myself forward. That fear of rejection never really leaves; even as adults, when we convince ourselves we’ve “grown into” confidence, social situations can bring those childhood feelings rushing back. At work, at dinner parties, even in casual interactions, we can feel like kids on the playground again.

When I got to high school and college, I experienced the magic of being part of a big friendship group for the first time. Group chats, parties, endless in-jokes — it felt affirming to belong. But as I grew more into my own interests, I found myself drifting apart. My individuality felt like isolation, and eventually, I had to walk away.

At university and beyond, I’ve been more deliberate. I’ve worked hard to build and nurture close, long-lasting friendships — people I trust deeply. Now that I’m working full time and watching the years blur together, those platonic bonds feel more important than ever. Perhaps that’s because romantic relationships have always been harder for me to sustain.

This weekend reminded me of why friendship matters so much. After all the worrying and over-planning, I was finally with my people. And suddenly it all felt effortless. Laughter flowed, memories resurfaced, and I had a kind of out-of-body moment: the kid who once went pink at the smallest attention now commanding a room, spinning jokes and stories with ease.

I don’t want to sound arrogant. Most of the time you’ll find me content on my own — in a café, at the cinema, or simply at home. But rediscovering that feeling of belonging, of being part of something bigger than myself, was exhilarating. For a short while, the pressures of adult life dissolved, and we were kids again — showing off our “toys,” laughing too loudly, and existing in perfect harmony.

I’ve realised my friends are an extension of who I am. Our shared experiences, blended interests, and overlapping tastes create a fuller version of me than I could ever build alone. Without them, I wouldn’t be half the person I am today. Life without friendship would be like a poem without meaning, or a fruit without sweetness.

That’s why I try to show my friends how much they mean to me, even if it’s through small things — thank-you messages, photos, holding memories close. When you find your people, you have to savour the moments together.

So yes, this weekend we drank too much, smoked too much, and woke up worse off physically and financially. But I came away feeling renewed — as though I’d been on a retreat. Because friendship can’t be measured in cost. It keeps me grounded, lifts me up, and reminds me of the best parts of myself.

If any of my friends are reading this, I want you to know: you fuel my spirit and feed my soul. Left on my own, I might have given up on this little blog long ago, especially when the negative thoughts creep in telling me I’m not enough — or worse, too much. But your kindness and encouragement always overpower that darkness.

And for that, I’m endlessly grateful.

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