In my adult life, I've started referring to myself as an "Island". Why? Well, I say that because making friends is hard. I mean, on the playground if you shared a ball or didn’t kick each other in the shins, you were pretty much cool. When you’re in your twenties, that’s a different story; you run into sorority sisters, drinking buddies, fake friends, Instagram besties, and Snapchat streaks.

Personally, I work so much that if I don’t make friends at work chances are I’m not going to make one that day.

The worst part about not making friends easily is the rejection or feeling of failure when you try really hard. When you go out on a limb, hang out once or twice; make follow up plans and….nothing. No phone call, no text, no acknowledgment of missed arrangements, and a feeling of loneliness are what you get for trying to make a new friend.

It’s usually at that point that you resign to wearing sweatpants, eating ice cream, and only being friendly to dogs. It’s a terrible feeling. I mean, petting dogs helps but it doesn’t repair that defeat. It sucks, even more, when your existing friends or maybe your significant other hits it off with the people you were trying to make friends with. It feels like you weren’t good enough to make the cut.

But you are good enough. You don’t need that one person to be your friend to give your life meaning. It’s okay to not be accepted by a friend group. For me, I wasn’t accepted because loyalties remained elsewhere, and that’s alright.

I’ve accepted that my life is good enough without an extra friend or group because I assign meaning to my life, not someone else. You are most certainly a strong, independent human being that doesn’t need validation from outside forces.

So you slip into those sweat pants, eat that cookie, adopt a dog, and binge watch some Rick and Morty. You’ll be okay, even if it hurts some, and you can be an island. The cool thing about being an island? No pants required.