In my first semester of college, I felt like I had to make a strong effort to make friends, or else every person I knew who wasn’t my friend would be my “fault,” basically. I actually wasn’t too concerned about not having friends then. On-campus life felt like paradise for me. I didn’t struggle with the first-semester loneliness many college students experience. My life wasn’t completely perfect, but overall I loved my first semester and happily explored campus and college life, on my own when I didn’t have acquaintances to join me. I wasn’t shy or sad about having fun by myself! But other people and even the college media made me feel that at this point in my life, success was having several close friends, and I didn’t want to be a failure.

The people living near me, who knew my schedule, would often commend me for how active I was on campus, for all the events I attended, etc. and say something like “That’s a good start! Keep it up!” as if it was a job for me to keep it up. But those who didn’t know how active I was would usually begin with a “You just need to get out more! You can’t just stay stuck here in your room or you won’t make friends.” It was hard to convince these people otherwise, so I would just tell them I was working on it.

Others would say, “You know, you can’t be friends with people unless you talk to them.” Despite the slightly insulting vibe of this suggestion, it always struck me as slightly funny because as much as I’d like to be that kind of quiet, deep person, I actually talk quite a bit, as all my current best friends are ready to point out.

One of the most popular pieces of advice was, “You just need to actually try to make friends!” And indeed, this kind of effort did not come naturally to me.

Some people wondered aloud why I had so few friends. Many suggested it was because I was home-schooled—I have to hide an eye-roll every time I hear this. Some point out some fault they’ve noticed in me and conclude that it must be preventing me from having friends. This is naturally my least favorite attempt to “help” me. I always resist pointing out numerous faults in them and asking why all of those haven’t prevented them from making friends. I know I have faults, but I know they are not the kind to prevent friendships any more than the faults other people have.

Anyways, I did my best to make friends, and usually failed. At least I made several acquaintances!

At some point closer to the end of my first semester, I also arrived at the end of my patience. I stopped trying to make friends altogether. This is when I began to make my closest friends.

I made only a small few that first semester, and make about the same amount every semester since. I am happy with this, and it is this way not because I was home-schooled or because I do things wrong sometimes, but because I realized that not everyone is compatible for friendship with me. I take friendship quite seriously and will not invest in a friendship with just anyone.

I have made friends I love and trust, and I am totally open to making more with the right people, but I have embraced the fact that if it happens, it will happen naturally or not at all. None of the advice people thought I needed contributed to any of my current friendships.

Now, the title of this article is a little misleading. Some people do need help or encouragement to do the things that will give them the chance to make friends or to stop doing things that really are noticeably pushing people away. And if someone asks for friend-making advice, it is nice to help them out! But please do not feel obligated to help those of us who make friends slower, especially if it is out of pity, guilt, or defensiveness (“Why don’t you just go to more events?!”) when we probably just need more time. Instead, you can just be a friend to us.