I Don’t Have Any Friends: How can we begin re-cultivating friendship at forty?
By: Tyler Zimmerman
Tags: Friendship, Boys, Men

Me and my best friend

“Middle Aged.” A frightening term to many thirty-somethings approaching their last years of perceived youth. Your fortieth birthday is often accompanied by black balloons, death of mobility, and gag jokes like hemorrhoid cream and Icy Hot. You’re officially “over the hill”, so does that, by result, mean it’s all downhill from here? Since putting an end to my days of drinking and beginning to focus on my wellbeing, I feel better at 41 than I ever did at 35. I have more energy and drive than when I was drunk every night of the week, and my life feels full of so much meaning and potential — except for one thing.

I don’t have any friends. Over the last weeks I’ve been pondering the suicidal uptick among middle aged folks, and began to think about my own experience with depression amidst a rise in depression among men my age. What could possibly be going on? The more I dug into it, the more I began to reflect my life against research studies being done… and more and more, it began to seem as though depression wasn’t the real problem, it was a symptom of a greater issue. We are lonely.

Speaking strictly from my own experience, I can say that this is undoubtedly something I’ve struggled with through my adult years. In school we had friends we played sports and video games with, and hung out with on weekend afternoons to play football or hide and seek, and even when the game was over, we’d spend countless hours hanging out and doing “boy stuff”, and eventually “guy stuff” and later on we all had to do “man stuff”, which turned out to be incredibly solitary. It wasn’t the same, lighthearted goofing off we experienced through our teen years. It meant working, so I couldn’t go out as much. Having the kids on weekends, so I couldn’t go on that camping trip. A car breaking down, so my evening was spent making sure I had it up and running by 7am.

I’m always on my way to work, at work, on my way home from work, or calling to say that I haven’t left yet because we had a little bit more to do at work. The relationships I had forged over years of sports, video games, and weekend afternoons dissipated. Trying to get together with the few friends I still keep in touch with is another issue entirely. One guy’s day off is another guy’s busiest day of the week. We’re all living a different version of the same life.

The days of calling your friend to shoot some hoops at the local basketball court are gone, and you’re left at 40 surrounded by responsibilities and no one to talk with. Trying to plan ahead ends with “it’s a really busy week at work, but I’ll shoot you a text” back and forth until one week someone doesn’t respond, and then you wait a few months before starting up again.

Take a moment to consider this: when was the last time you got together with a close friend to do something fun? Just the two of you? (and football games and beer while your wives talk and the kids play doesn’t count.) The bond we created as kids was formed because we were brothers in battle, on the court, field, or video game screen. We did stuff together that pushed us and made us better people, and better friends. If I were to cast the first stone, I could only aim it at myself — we’re all guilty of this, and the more I’ve stopped to think about it the more I feel convicted.

At the end of the day, I feel lonely too. As life progresses, as we hit bittersweet milestones like forty, when we struggle with our children, or when we go through something difficult like a divorce or losing a parent, there’s no one there to support us, to listen to our heartbreak, grieve with us. We live isolated lives and try to be everyone’s rock, when there’s no one behind us to help us sort through the burdens of being that support.

Sometimes, there are things only men can provide for each other. While your wife is an anchor, and one of the deepest loves of your life, she can’t always be your best friend. Not in the same way your best bud can be. Men and women talk about and deal with things differently, and it’s okay to recognize that and accept it. You shouldn’t expect your wife to be your only emotional support. Friends who share the same interests as you and have walked a similar path to yours are sometimes more equipped to be that listening ear and piece of advice.

Looking around, there doesn’t seem to be much of an opportunity for mens groups outside of bible studies. They have their time and place, but we have the opportunity to do more. Wouldn’t it be great to have a local group for men your age, where once a week you get together to do different activities, help counsel each other, and catch up on that quality friend time you’ve been missing for so many years? Even if you couldn’t make it one week, an open invitation and a promise of next week takes anxiety out of trying to plan things yourself. Over time, it could forge bonds that middle aged men like me don’t have as much opportunity to make anymore.

I’ve heard it said that positive relationships are a huge factor in our longevity here on earth. Wouldn’t you want to rekindle old friendships and start new ones so you can be around longer to hang out with your new friends and spend more years with your wife and children — and happier, more fulfilling years, I might add? It is our responsibility to make sure we stay healthy, and half of that means mental health. I challenge you to pick a day, YOU start the group, YOU be the leader in a new mens movement to foster ongoing friendships and healthy, platonic relationships. Despite what the movies of our youth told us, being the ‘loner’ isn’t really that cool. Making an effort to connect with people, engage in your community, and positively impact the men around you is so much more rewarding. There is power in a strong network of guy friends who just get it, so pull out your old sign and let the ladies know that once a week this room is “BOYS ONLY.”