Building the community I've been missing

Rediscovering a love of hosting, community, and the beauty of bringing people together.

Every friend group has the planner — the person who not only suggests happy hours and random hobby nights, but makes them happen.

It’s me. I’m the organizer. Except, for the last several years, I haven’t been.

When the world shifted in 2020, I naturally lost the sense of bringing people together. Not only were we all quarantined, but I was also newly in a relationship with my now husband — and we all know how much time and energy we willingly throw into new love.

After full days on video meetings, you couldn’t pay me to do a Zoom happy hour with friends or coworkers. It’s not that I didn’t want to see people, but I simply could not take any more screen time and awkward pauses for internet lags.

Just before the pandemic, I moved into a townhouse that I loved but was less ideal for having people over. I bought it for its killer location, not its hosting abilities. Small spaces, little seating, and difficult parking — it read more “quiet night at home” than “cozy gathering space.” I’d have a friend or two swing by every now and then or use it as a jumping off point to go out on occasion, but I wasn’t hosting or gathering people in the ways that I used to love. And, to be honest, I was a little burned out on being the one who organized everything, so I took a break to thrive in my naturally introverted state.

Fast-forward to getting married, we bought an adorable, 80-year-old Tudor home that needed a lot of work. For the past three years, our house has been a construction zone in one way or another. Only recently have we started to see the light at the end of the tunnel (fingers crossed).

None of this is a complaint — I’m incredibly grateful that we have the time and resources to resolve the issues in our home and update it in ways that we love. We knowingly signed up for this. But, with the slow construction, it has continued the trend of me being a reclusive, work-from-home gnome with no company. Call me crazy, but stepping over boxes of tile and gallons of paint to get to the bathroom that has a functional toilet but no sink (wash your hands in the kitchen, please) probably isn’t most people’s idea of a good time.

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However, I’ve come to realize over the past couple of years, and especially recently, how much I miss being more connected. I miss being the organizer, the planner, the one who brings people together. I miss hosting friends for random Tuesday drinks and gathering the crew for whatever hijinks I dream up.

I’m an introvert through and through, but I love the feeling of bringing people together and having the occasion buzz around me — all my social butterfly friends carrying the conversation while I flit about the room.

I met a friend, who I hadn’t seen in ages, for coffee last week. We both mentioned how we felt less connected than we did when we were younger. We’re yearning for more community in our lives, and I don’t think we’re alone. I hear more and more women asking how to make friends in midlife and wondering how to find a community that speaks to them.

As I’ve considered community recently, I came across a beautiful example of women in community and, separately, a Substack note that stuck with me. “The fastest way to earn a seat at the table is to host the meal.”

This reminder lit a spark in me. While I’ve learned mahjong and joined a writing club and book club (all highly recommended), the fastest and easiest way to find a community is to create one — build your own.

For about a year, I’ve been toying with the idea of creating Girl Club — a low-pressure community of incredible midlife(ish) women who are bosses in their own right (whatever that means to them) but also just want to be girls together. We may talk about how we’re navigating our parents’ aging, swap business tips, wear eye patches, and debate our teenage crushes all in one evening.

How is this different than just hanging out with friends, you ask? It’s not. But it sounds cooler when you call it Girl Club.

Whether it’s Girl Club^TM or supper club or a local group of Substack writers, I’m setting an intention to become an organizer again. I want to connect people and connect with people — even if I have to find a space until our house is finished.

The old saying is, “If you want a village, be a villager.” So here I am — villager reporting for duty. I’ll let you know how it goes.

✤ How are you feeling about community in your life right now?

In case you missed it, I started another Substack. Hope No One Reads This is for anyone who is overcoming the fear of vulnerability in their writing practice.

If you liked this post, I invite you to give it a heart or restack and check out some of The Tea Library’s previous posts:

Five ways I'm simplifying in December

Hope No One Reads This

Friends of the Library: Nicole Giordano on Building a More Creative Life

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