Friends Journey
Where My Friends At?
Not Los Angeles
Earlier this year, I found myself newly single in an unfamiliar city without so much as a single friend I could call my own. Of course, I had my high school friends who I connect with on occasion, my adventurous travel buddies from all around the world like Emma, my charming Australian roommate from teaching English in South Korea, Michael, a soft spoken writer working at my hostel in Greece who now visits me no matter what city I call home and Elodie, a sweet girl I met backpacking through Costa Rica, as well as the kind faces at my nine to five but none of them actually know who I am.
This discovery was sparked by my sex coach. Yes, that’s right, my sex coach. And although I had spent years justifying my lack of connection with others, it was finally time to address this sticky spot. My story was: “I’ve had too many relationships, both platonic and romantic, disappoint me so why put in the effort just to be let down? Friends can’t be both fun and accountable. Instead, choose one or the other and get over it.” However, it was Jocelyn Silva, the most amazing sex coach, who helped me realize that if I couldn’t even get the recipe right for a delicious nurturing friendship, how could I do it for a romantic one?
Sex Coach
A sex coach was honestly the last thing I wanted to get into and I resisted as hard and as long as possible. I knew there was so much trauma to unload and wasn’t even sure where to begin. After all, I had told my painful stories countless times to anyone who would listen but never really felt any true healing from my verbal purging. How could it be any different this time and why should I pay thousands of dollars to prove I was right? But after another painful breakup for many of the same reasons I’d heard before, it was finally time to face my many traumatic sexual experiences, unfulfilling and confusing sex life and unintentional sexual identity (more on the sexy part of my journey here, I Have a Sex Coach).
After committing to a 16-week master class in sex and only sex, my coach told me most of what we’d be digging into wasn’t actually sex, it was more about my feelings surrounding the topic. Which, honestly, is what I’d been saying for years; I knew my blocks were emotional, mental and spiritual but how does one clear out those gross feelings to make space for good ones?
Once we began uncovering my sexual trauma, learning how to set healthy boundaries and communicating effectively, it became obvious that the very foundation my relationships were formed on was quite flimsy. Typically, I entered relationships expecting to be let down, not fully investing, and then continued by letting myself be pushed around, speaking my boundaries but never actually upholding them, leaving me feeling disrespected, helpless and out of control.
See, Jocelyn explained, the dynamics of a relationship are formed by the way you approach it the moment you meet. When you enter a relationship not quite fully whole with distrust or without clarity it creates a distance between the two of you that’s tough to overcome. And it wasn’t until Jocelyn dropped this nugget that I had a real aha moment: How you show up in the world, is the same way you show up in the bedroom, and vice versa. It was finally time to take back my power.
Manifest Station is what she called it and that was my next assignment during my coaching journey. In order to find these yummy relationships I’d have to first lay down the ground rules, so I made a list of all the characteristics I’d like my potential friends to have, rating them 1 through 5 with 5 being most important:
Someone who shows up 5
Consistency 5
Balanced, when I check in with them, they check back 4
Connection, same mentality (professional, working on themselves, adventurous, travel, well-rounded person) 5
Mutually beneficial, lifts each other up 5
Holds me accountable (honesty, truth) 4
Kind 5
Respectful 5
Thoughtful 4
Generous 4
Common interests (activities, conversations) 4
Accountability & follow through 5
Able to have real conversations (deeper topics like family, politics, emotions, not surface level, not afraid to be wrong, ugly, etc.) 5
Self aware (knows who they are or at least working on it) 5
Vulnerable 4
Makes effort 5
After thoughtfully reviewing my list, Jocelyn asked me what stuck out most. Bashfully, I admitted, it sounds like I’m looking to connect with myself. It was then that I realized the myth I had been telling myself about having friends who are both fun and accountable was wrong. Those kinds of people are out there because I’m out there. And it turns out all the traits I’d like to find in a friend are the same ones I’d also like to find in a partner, as well, plus that illusive sexual chemistry. It was safe to say, once I had enough practice making quality friends, I’d be sure to land a partner.
Another one of Jocelyn’s most helpful homework assignments was to find my passions. Of course, I knew I enjoyed practicing yoga, eating delicious foods, traveling and photography but how could I use that information to find like-minded individuals? She assigned some thought starters for me to work on: What fires you up? What pisses you off? What excites you? My answers shocked me a little and it was that last question that really got me thinking. What excites me? Challenges. Risks. New opportunities. Meeting new people. Temptation. It was scary things that really got me excited, and not the “boo” kind of scary but the kind where you’re emotionally vulnerable. It had been a long time since I had actually put myself out there but boy, was I ready.
Setting Boundaries
Most importantly, I had to establish some rules or boundaries that I’d practice upholding to make sure I didn’t end up with a bunch of bums for friends. It wasn’t enough to put myself out there, I had to be discerning and I had to trust my judgement and decision making skills. I had to decide exactly what I want in a friend and since I had already created a list of traits I’d like to see in potential friends, I was halfway there. The key was being able to distinguish between those I’d take into my fold and those I’d rather pass on; I started off slowly.
At the office, I began putting myself out there, talking to fellow coworkers for the first time, saying yes to events that I might not otherwise. I bought tickets to a concert, reached out to old friends and had hard conversations with others. Reaching out on a limb, I joined a dating app called Hinge to continue my search for friends, paying for a subscription so that I wasn’t restricted in any way. Then, I came up with a handful of strategies to keep me focused on my ultimate goal of creating a queer community in Los Angeles full of meaningful friendships.
This was where the tough decisions began. First, I created a profile that was as neutral as possible without being dull. I clearly stated I was only interested in friendship and did not post suggestive prompts or photos. I focused on what means the most to me and avoided superficial topics. I was transparent, vulnerable and honest. Next, it was time to swipe. I had to determine if potentials were only interested in love connections or if friendship was on the table. Almost immediately, I realized some women were laser focused on finding the one so I created a personal filter that if someone responded to the majority of prompts with “romantic” answers, it was an automatic no. That’s not what I was looking for.
Then, it was more about commonalities. Is this someone I find interesting, authentic and well rounded? If so, I would ‘like’ them. Looks aside, I focused on written prompts more than anything else and slowly my inbox began to fill up. Conversations began to flow, phone numbers exchanged and ironically, it was not long into my friends journey that my boundaries were tested. For more details on my process, check out Queers of LA.
Testing Boundaries
My first potential friend asked me out for drinks and against my better judgement, I accepted (prefer not to meet one on one as it often leads people to think there’s a romantic connection especially if meeting in the evening and for drinks). In the days before meeting up, my suspicions were confirmed. She thoughtlessly dropped a line about how I might end up at her place and just like I had always done, I ignored it. Onward, full speed ahead.
The night of our meetup finally arrived and we met at The Normandie Club in Koreatown in a dimly lit bar hidden inside a hotel. We sat across from each other and talked for hours. She was charming, funny and a professional, all things I was looking for in a potential friend. We had so much in common and I was thrilled that I had found someone I connected with so naturally. The night had gone off without a hitch, no flirting, no weird vibes; I was in the clear.
On the way home, we began texting about future plans to hang and I suggested going to the Korean spa. And there it was, she replied back that Korean spas are date material and can get a little sexual. My gut had been right the entire time. For a few moments, I thought I’d have to suck it up again. I’d have to pretend I didn’t hear the comment and not make her feel uncomfortable at my expense. I paused and decided to sit on it for the night to think things through. In the end it took me five days to come up with the courage to speak up. This was my response:
Hey X, wanted to reach out. I had so much fun the other night but felt a little like you’re interested in something more than a friendship and that we’re not quite on the same page. Totally fine if that’s what you’re looking for but if so, I think we’ll have to go our separate ways.
And with that, I lost my first potential friend. She thanked me for sharing my feelings and that was that. Even though it took me a moment to get my footing, this experience taught me a few important lessons:
Trust my gut.
Kindly demand respect and be willing to let go of those who don’t offer it freely.
Have the courage to speak my truth because it’s a lot easier than I think.
Fast forward nearly six months, I’ve starting hosting monthly mixers for a diverse group of incredible women I’ve met online. About 20 of us have a group chat going where we check in with each other and plan events together. We’ve gone rock climbing, out for dinners and drinks and even spent a wild weekend in Palm Springs for Dinah Shore. Although none of this was easy (and I’ve been ghosted more times than I can count), I can finally call Los Angeles my own.
