Okay, let’s be real for a moment: I feel lonely. Not always, but definitely more than I expected when I dreamed of being an adult in the city with my own apartment and the need for day-to-night outfits. Don’t lie; you get lonely, too. We’re all feeling lonely despite being surrounded by people, and the idea of a village is sounding pretty damn appealing right now — minus being auctioned off to a second cousin the minute you hit puberty.
Everyone wants a village — a community to offer support — so why are we all living in isolated little cabins ripe for a horror film? Well, it’s because we’ve kind of become shit villagers along the way. I include myself in this. I’m hyper-independent, I hate asking for help, and I keep a mental tab of favors to determine whether people are taking advantage of me. It’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me.
As a consequence of the garbage fire world we’re living in, we’re not really winning the friendship game. This is a fact, but I’m not blaming us!! Buying a house is low-key impossible, even if you listen to boomers and cancel your daily Starbies, so we’re pretty transient. We rent for a limited time before a landlord kicks us out, so we don’t bother much with neighbors or the neighborhood, lacking a sense of ownership in our communities. Additionally, we’re all UNBELIEVABLY BUSY AND OVERWHELMED. Life is expensive, we’re working overtime, we’ve been taught we have to do it all (plus a couple of side hustles). Parents get critiqued for everything when raising their kids and feel they need to be full-time entertainers. People are less chill and nice thanks to the internet ruining us, and the list goes on.
On top of that, we can accomplish more than ever by ourselves. We have apps for everything — pet-sitting, getting someone to build your IKEA furniture, food delivery when you’re sick, and more. So it seems like we don’t need people the same way, so why would we inconvenience them? We’re hyper-independent and think it’s a favor to everyone. We’re also surprised when people don’t ask things of us.
The result: we’re fucking lonely and without community. Let’s fix this mess. We need to become better villagers ASAP, so let’s figure out how we can do this without signing up for weekly babysitting or learning how to make a pie.
The Problem: We All Suck At Being Villagers
You can’t just enjoy the benefits of a village; you have to act as a villager for this to work. Here are the biggest mistakes to make while community-building and how to avoid them.
Hyper-independence
Independent girlies, I see you. I am you. From a young age, I got myself ready for school, I was responsible for my academic success, and I didn’t have a curfew as I was told I “knew when it was an appropriate time to go home.” Well, now we gotta be less independent to make this village thrive.
Danielle Bayard Jackson, relational health educator and author of Fighting For Our Friendships, wants us to rethink how we view independence.
“It’s not a flex to say I do everything on my own,” Jackson says. “That doesn’t make you strong to me.” Instead, communities thrive off a healthy level of interdependence. You can hold your own, but you don’t have to. True strength is not performing solo all the time — like you’re Beyoncé in Homecoming.
In her viral TikTok, Rachel Lovely gives a full low-down on community-building and advises people to “sit humbly at the feet of the village.” I have always gone above and beyond for those around me (chronic people pleaser) but refused anything in return. By doing so, I limited my own village; I limited the connections they could, in turn, form with me. Let go of ego and pride and instead allow people to help you. Turn to your neighbors or friends, rather than an app.
As painful as it can feel, you gotta put people out. Ask someone to cat-sit, water your plants, or give you a lift. The worst they can say is no, and I promise you’ll live — though there are no promises for those plants.
Lack of boundaries
How do boundaries work in this all? How do we give to the community and still have enough for ourselves? Idk about you, but I’ve been permanently exhausted since 2015.
Showing up for your community doesn’t mean setting yourself on fire to keep everyone else warm. Boundaries are actually the most generous thing you can offer. Elizabeth Day, author of Friendaholic and patron saint of honest friendship, calls them “a point of connection.”
“In order to show up for your community, you actually have to start by setting those boundaries and being really clear about what you can commit to, time-wise and energy-wise,” Day urges. “And I don’t think that’s selfish, actually. I think that’s the foundation of true selflessness because then once you’ve said no and set the boundaries for what you’re willing to say yes to, you can fully commit to that yes.”
It also means that once you’ve committed to that yes, the people who are hearing that yes can actually trust it. “If we don’t put enough boundaries in place and we’re striving to please everyone, we let people down at the last minute because we’ve over-committed. We’ve said yes to too many things, and then it feels overwhelming we’ve had to pull out. So I actually think a judicious and loving boundary is the opposite of being selfish.”
If you’re running on empty 24/7 (hi), ask yourself: are you really showing up for your friends, or just limping through social events like a zombie who forgot to cancel?
Keeping score
If you’re tallying up every favor, every text, every birthday message, congrats — you’re not building a village; you’re hosting a competition. Yes, sometimes it’ll feel like you’re giving more than you get. But that’s not a glitch, it’s the system. Good vibes don’t always boomerang immediately.
Let’s be real, this is fucking scary!! Jackson acknowledges that fear as well. “‘What if I overgive? What if people take advantage?’ That’s a worthy fear, but that’s an extreme because if we’re all subscribing to the idea that we’re doing this for the greater good, then everyone gets their needs met because people are looking out for me, too.”
Trust the bigger picture of the village and start mucking in with the rest of them. Pick someone up from the airport, not so they do it for you, but so they have a friendly face waiting for them after a flight. Drop by with a homemade meal because you know it’ll make them feel better while struggling through the flu.
Now You Know What Not To Do, Here’s How To Build Your Village
Still struggling to make friends as an adult? SAME. It’s a universal struggle. We’re all fighting loneliness in small ways. Try jumping into built-in communities like run clubs, parent groups, or fan clubs (hello, BookTok girlies). Or, do a little retro recon: are there people you low-key ghosted during your glow-up phase who might still be open to reconnecting?
Actually talk to people. Yes, even the ones you avoid by pretending your AirPods are on when they’re clearly not. It’s time to master the not-so-subtle art of small talk. I get it, it’s painful. But the trick? Talk about stuff you actually care about. I personally refuse to discuss the weather or babies, but if you ask me about dogs, I’ll turn into an unhinged Chatty Cathy.
If you’re trying to build an actual village — like, with neighbors and sidewalks and awkward eye contact — it takes work, and a lot of that work is super fun, but it can’t be missed. You gotta build those sewer systems, post offices, and YMCAs. Here’s how to start.
Leave the [beloved] couch
Get up, girlie. As much as I love rotting on the couch with a disturbing true crime doc and an $18 DoorDash smoothie, building a village means getting up. This isn’t just about meeting up with friends for a meal but partaking in these community-building moments. Community isn’t built from under your weighted blanket. You need to physically go — go to your friend’s improv show, your coworker’s launch party, your niece’s 4th birthday. Just… go.
“Your village is happening outside, you have to go,” Lovely emphasizes in her viral TikTok. “You have to be willing to not only be close emotionally, but in proximity.” That means pull yourself out of your comfy cocoon and show up consistently — even if you’re not texting back in 0.2 seconds. Plan check-ins. Be the person who makes the brunch res, not just the one who shows up hungover.
Jackson urges us to rethink what community really means. (Spoiler: it’s not just wine nights and brunch.) “Community means I show up for others, and they show up for me,” Jackson explains. “That does not happen at the time that I prefer, in the convenient moments that I prefer. It might call on me to do things that I’m not used to doing. It might require me to be vulnerable.”
Let go of the Pinterest board version of your life and make room for the actual connection.
Teach yourself to think of others
If you’re still trying to control everything, newsflash: a village that revolves around your schedule isn’t a village; it’s a dictatorship. Because sometimes villages directly conflict with a prioritization of the self.
“Compromise is required for any healthy friendship because a healthy friendship is about mutual affection, investment, and support,” Jackson explains. “In order for both parties to feel seen and supported, it means that there are going to be times when we have to each make concessions.” Translation? Sometimes it’s not about you.
We gotta stop channeling Sharpay Evans and start channeling Mother Teresa or another do-gooder. And if you’re worried you’re too selfish to be a village girlie, fear not. Thinking of others is a learned skill. Start by remembering small things — birthdays, coffee orders, big job interviews. It doesn’t take much. Just give a little damn. Not to flex, but I once texted a friend good luck for an interview, and she acted like I’d solved world hunger.
But don’t mistake this for “become the village mom.” You don’t need to bake pies or babysit twins to belong. Be yourself. The village needs you, not a manic pixie people-pleaser.
Show up authentically
Day’s memoir Friendaholic discusses how she became a worse friend to actually be a better one. “I think showing up authentically as myself and being open and honest about my own flaws and my own mistakes or difficult challenges that I’ve been through acts as a gateway for other people to connect and share their experiences.”
Aka, if you open up about the tough shit, you open the door for them to do the same. You show them that this isn’t just surface-level and that you understand the harder parts of life. “All true human solidarity and strength and meaning are forged through our vulnerability,” Day explains.
So yeah, share the messy stuff. The heartbreak. The loss. The career flop. The time you drunk-texted your ex. That’s the gateway to real connection.
Bottom line: Villages aren’t built on aesthetics or “catch up soon” texts. They’re built on intention, presence, and a little effort. So pick up the phone, open your door, and join the damn village. We saved you a seat.
