At some point in adulthood, the group chat gets quieter. Not because people are busy (though they are) or because anything dramatic happened (though maybe it did), but because no one’s really saying much anymore. You still go to the same birthday dinners, still like each other’s posts, still send “we should catch up soon” texts you both know won’t happen. But if you’re honest, you’re starting to wonder: Do I even enjoy these people anymore? Or are we just defaulting to each other out of comfort?
This question sounds harsh until you realize how easy it is to drift into autopilot when it comes to friendship. We meet people during high-intensity seasons—college, church, early career, mission trips—and we bond fast. But those seasons change. We grow, shift values, rethink faith, reevaluate ourselves. Sometimes the only thing holding the friendship together is shared nostalgia and the convenience of not having to start over.
That’s not necessarily bad. Familiarity has its place. But if most of your social life feels like emotional inertia—if you leave hangouts more drained than grounded—it might be time to take a closer look.
Psychologist and author Marisa G. Franco says this is a common trap among adults. “Friendship in adulthood does not happen organically,” she explains. “I’m going to repeat that—it does not happen organically. You have to try.” It’s a reminder that effort isn’t just required for romance or career growth—it’s crucial for meaningful connection too.
The truth is, many of us were never taught how to outgrow friendships. Romantic relationships get language for ending: “We’ve changed,” “We want different things,” “This isn’t healthy anymore.” But friendship? It’s supposed to last forever. Especially in Christian circles where “community” is treated as both sacred and non-negotiable.
But there’s a difference between loyalty and avoidance. You can love someone and still recognize that the version of yourself they connect with no longer exists. You can honor your shared history without building your present around it. And yes, you can be a Christian who values community and believes in curating the people you allow to speak into your life.
That doesn’t mean you’re being transactional. It means you’re being intentional.
Friendship coach Danielle Bayard Jackson says one of the most important elements of healthy adult friendships is balance. “Symmetry is feelings of reciprocity, balance and egalitarianism,” she explains, “meaning that we’re equals and we’re both contributing equally [to the relationship].” If one side is constantly doing the heavy lifting—whether emotionally, spiritually or logistically—that’s not friendship. That’s obligation.
In John 15:15, Jesus says, “I have called you friends”—a reminder that real friendship is something we choose, not just something that happens to us. If your current circle isn’t challenging you, encouraging you or reflecting the kind of life you’re trying to build, that’s worth paying attention to.
This doesn’t mean you need to torch every group chat that feels stale or deliver breakup monologues to your college roommates. But it does mean giving yourself permission to recalibrate. Invest in the people who energize you. Make space for friendships that reflect who you are now—not just who you were at 23. And if that means drifting from some familiar faces, it’s OK. You’re not failing at friendship. You’re being honest about where you’re going and who you want to go with you.
Growing up doesn’t mean shrinking your circle for the sake of minimalism. It means recognizing that intimacy, like faith, thrives on intention. The friendships that matter most aren’t just the ones that lasted the longest—they’re the ones that still feel alive.
