Has it dawned on you that your free time outside of work has transformed into the most “me time” you’ve had in years? Sure, our children, parents, and pets still demand our time and attention, but those carefree nights out with girlfriends seem like a distant memory from a pre-kids, pre-elderly-parents, pre-pet era. Nowadays, your newfound freedom is filled with chores, endless phone scrolling, binge-watching the latest shows, or simply standing in a room trying to recall why you walked in there.

But then what? It might be time to rediscover your tribe!

You see, at this stage of life, I’ve come to appreciate that friendships come in many forms, each offering something unique and irreplaceable. Like individual pieces of a puzzle coming together to complete the picture of my life, every friendship holds a purpose that no one else can fulfill.

Old Friends

Referring to the women I’ve known for over 25 years as “old” makes me chuckle and cringe all at once. The word itself sounds like rotting wood. “Lifelong friends,” on the other hand, feels much sweeter and warm—just like the friendships we share.

My lifelong friends are from childhood and my first job. Our bonds were born of circumstance and similar upbringings that have stood the test of time. We don’t need to talk or text every day to maintain a close connection—it simply thrives on its own.

One of the beautiful things about this phase of life is our unspoken loyalty and trust. Our open, honest, and sometimes heart-wrenching discussions about our marriages, divorces, and growing children are not what built this bond—it was forged years ago by our shared experiences as young girls and women finding our way in the world.

One of my cherished “old friend” groups dates back to high school—40 years ago! Every year, on December 27, we gather at the same restaurant and laugh about how much closer we’ve become compared to our school days. For some of us, that annual dinner is the only time we see each other, but in a way, I believe that strengthens our bond. There’s no pressure or expectations, just laughter and good times. Although the ties that initially brought us together—growing up in the Bronx and attending the same Catholic high school—have faded with time, something extraordinary has kept us connected for decades, even among a class of 500.

This year, we joked that we are in the ‘no new friends’ stage. I first heard this term on Bridget Everett’s brilliant show, “Somebody, Somewhere.” She gets upset with her friend, Joel, who meets someone in a yoga class and wants to include her in their next breakfast at the local diner, something usually reserved just for them. 

“NNP, Joel,” she reminds him. “No new people!”

At dinner that night, we agreed there is less room for new friends. We know who we want to spend our time with, no need to ‘fit in’ to social or work networks like we did when we were just starting out.

It didn’t occur to me that I had adopted the NNP attitude until three years ago when I realized a dream of starting a book club. During that time, I met a much younger woman who left a lasting impression on me. She was well-educated, fiercely independent, and what I like to call a “community builder.” Her passion for dance, books, and music seemed magnetic as she effortlessly brought people together. We became the best of friends. Often, we found ourselves thinking along the same lines without verbalizing it, only to have our ideas surface later.

I took to telling people—and her—that she was “the last friend I’m making.” The phrase slipped out one day as a joke, but it meant that my inner circle was now complete, forged long ago, and strengthened through shared experiences, trust, and love. Yet, here was this new woman, seamlessly fitting into that sacred circle. Suddenly, the term “Old Friends” took on an entirely new meaning.

Fast Friends

We bonded over middle age, our young adult children, and podcasts.

For over twenty years, I’ve been going to the same radiology center for my annual mammogram sonogram, and for as long as I can remember, Christy, a dedicated technician, has been there. Her professionalism and commitment to her work have always been reassuring—precisely what I need while lying there, mentally running through every worst-case scenario.

One day, while going over my chart, Christy noted that we were close in age and asked how I felt about getting older. I referenced the podcast Wiser Than Me, where host Julia Louis-Dreyfus interviews accomplished women over 70. One of her go-to questions is, “How old do you feel?” I shared with Christy that I felt around 36 years old. “Me, too!” she responded with glee.

From there, we fell into an effortless and enjoyable conversation about the challenges of midlife, our young adult children and their tattoos, my own tattoos (including my first at 52), the podcasts that inspire us, and Mel Robbins’s uplifting mantra: “Let Them.”

As we chatted away, she continued performing the exam, and for a brief moment, I felt a twinge of nerves. What if our conversation distracted her, causing her to overlook something? Then I reminded myself that she was the same technician who diagnosed my sister’s stage-one cancer. Only an extraordinarily skilled and meticulous person can spot that on an ultrasound. I exhaled, and a sense of happiness soon replaced my unease. I had connected with another woman who had shared many of my joys and struggles, a connection I might never have discovered if she hadn’t initiated the conversation.

Some days I am not in the mood for casual conversation in unexpected places, but this experience reminded me that friendships can happen anywhere. Taking a chance is all it takes to find them.

New Friends

Let’s be honest. Once we hit middle age, few things compare to the joy of canceled plans or finding the courage to say “no thanks” and choosing instead to curl up with a good book or indulge in a Traitors binge.

But think about it—when was the last time you did something purely for fun, something that energized you and nudged you out of your comfort zone? While we’ve certainly earned our cherished “me time,” at what point does it start to feel a bit isolating?

This is especially true during midlife, when an empty nest, the approach of retirement, the distance of friends, or the ache of a lonely marriage can leave us feeling lonelier than we ever imagined. At times like this, it may be a good idea to reimagine what “me time” looks like.

“Me time” doesn’t have to mean staying on the couch. It might be stepping out for a walk, joining that yoga class at the community college, or signing up for a cooking class. Maybe your usual friends or spouse aren’t interested in these activities, so you have to go it alone. Well, chances are, the people there feel just like you, a little shy, a little nervous. What a perfect opportunity to open up and engage with others.

No need to think it will lead to new friends or obligations. Simply a moment in time where you’ve stepped outside your comfort zone, tried something new, and made a meaningful human connection. Who knows, you may discover you have room for one more.

Laura Marino wears many hats as she juggles being a mother, daughter, sister, teacher, and librarian with the grace of a caffeinated octopus. When she’s not offering sage advice to her young adult kids or enlightening young minds, she’s likely buried in a book or writing insightful articles about the joys and quirks of friendship in your 50s. Laura’s superpower? Maintaining a neurotically neat home that could rival a museum, all while keeping a sense of humor that ensures everyone around her is smiling