WITH A LITTLE HELP FROM BUMBLE FRIENDS

Making friends as an adult is hard.

There’s an unspoken transition between your twenties and thirties. Turning thirty was more monumental than eighteen and twenty-one. No one older than you calls you a kid anymore and people younger than you will see you as a full-fledged adult.

Without warning free-time becomes a prized commodity. Priorities shift and next thing I know I turn into a pumpkin by midnight. There’s a meme that claims the reason we don’t see our friends is because they enjoy being home as much as we do. Sometimes it boils down that simply. Add in remote work and an address deep in the woods and it’s no wonder my social skills have atrophied. 

In comparison to a decade ago, stepping out of my college dorm room often resulted in random adventures by the time I hit the elevator. A consequence of living amongst 18-24 year olds down for a good time, plans would find me even when I wasn’t looking. We’d travel in pairs or packs mingling in and out of friend groups seamlessly. I had neighbors to skip class with, join on late night Denny’s runs, neighbors to party with. Hell, I even dated and eventually married the boy down the hall. It was a different time. While I no longer have the social battery to keep up with a buffet of plans, a part of me does miss the spontaneous opportunities that came with communal living pre-full-time job. 

During the pandemic there was a mass exodus out of the expensive Bay Area, many of them including my dearest friends. The majority of my little Santa Cruz community are now sprinkled across and out of the country. I might’ve been swept away along with them had it not been for my unicorn of a landlord who hasn’t raised rent in six years. 

I received an excited phone call from a girlfriend years ago. She met someone. They fell in love and moved in together. Fast forward to last fall I attended their beautiful wedding that began with a swipe-right on Bumble. More recently over summer a friend that relocated mentioned their positive Bumble BFF experience. Up until then I thought the platform only served singles looking for a relationship. They instantly hit it off and toured the L.A food scene together. She deleted the app after one meet-up. I took another personal Bumble BFF testimony as a sign. Her social circle was naturally expanding after one friend introduced her to another and before she knew it, she found her community. Bumble’s success rate was 3 for 3. 

The world of swiping was foreign territory. I started dating Jordan long before either of us had an iPhone. Instagram wasn’t released at the time, let alone Tinder. I went many years shielded from a common activity that millions of users were well-experienced in and in some cases jaded by.

For someone who fancies themselves a writer, coming up with a bio was challenging. The same anxiety I experienced when I published my first blog post or whenever I revamp my resume came floating over me like a storm cloud. How do I market myself? Luckily there were helpful profile prompts to get me started. “Your ideal friend date would be…”, “Best travel story”, and “Are you an early bird or night owl?” helped break the ice. In hopes of setting clear expectations, my response to the last prompt was that I peak in the afternoon. I won’t agree to a sunrise group workout or stay out late bar-hopping. An afternoon coffee date or stroll around an antique fair or farmers market however and I’m your gal. 

Bumble offers three profile versions: dating, friend and business. Depending on the membership tier, you can unlock features i.e allowing more swipes per day, profile spotlights to reach more members and backtracking options in case you want a “re-do.” I stuck with the basic free BFF version. 

For anyone that’s used Bumble or a similar platform, you’ll recognize the oddity of profile swiping. All of a sudden I was transported to the first day of high school where I’m both the vulnerable kid at lunch looking for a place to sit and also the person dictating who joins the table.

Compatibility is hard to determine by a handful of sentences and photos. The simplest parameter for me to narrow down options was keeping the location to a ten-mile radius. Convenience is important. It can be tricky enough to make plans with my remaining local friends. And I adore my long-distance friendships but it’s not the ideal foundation to start a relationship.

I’m seeking a friendship that’s easy. Easily reciprocated, easy to be myself in and easy logistically. There’s no greater comfort than being in good company without the pressure to be always doing something (I picture sharing stories sunk into a well-lived in couch or a park bench under a tree as pique friendship level.)

Home is where I want to be most of the time. I don’t want to exhaust myself with a friend speed-dating marathon just for the hell of it. I know what kind of friend I am and what kind of friend I’m looking for.

A cool feature of the app is you only have 24 hours after you’ve “matched’ to strike up a conversation before they expire. The extra nudge gives members the initiative to make a move before an opportunity passes.

Once the matches started rolling in my inbox, my lacking conversation skills were put to the test. Some conversations would peter out before talk of meeting up. The strangest scenario would be when a conversation is going pretty well in my mind and there’s the back and forth game of “let’s get together” that plays out to some unforseeable date. Turns out you can get ghosted by a potential friend like you would a potential partner.

My first blind-friend date resembled a job interview. We were polite and slightly guarded versions of ourselves – sussing out the likelihood of a call-back. Once we loosened up with breakfast mimosas I learned we both spent time living in Charlotte. While the years didn’t overlap, we shared memories of good southern cooking and visits to The Sleepy Poet, an impressive local antique mall. She held the title of an “elite Yelp reviewer.“ Initially I thought, excellent, a fellow writer! The red flag came after we met up at my favorite cafe. She wasn’t a fan of the beverage she ordered, finished only half her sandwich and commented on the chips being “too crunchy.” I didn’t know there was such a thing. 

After a few false starts and meet ups that never came to fruition, I was ready to hang in the towel. I only planned on using Bumble over summer and the end of the heatwave was my cue to remove the app. As I was about to reclaim much needed phone storage, I happened to match with someone who had a similar penchant for nature and long thoughtful responses. We followed through in our plans to meet for coffee with as much to chat on as we had to type about. The effortless conversation reminded me it’s possible for connections to feel like they did coming off the dorm elevator. Bumble BFF just helped me get there.

I’ve decided to keep the app throughout the fall season. Similar to with dating, friendships involve patience and realistic expectations. And let’s be honest, there’s no better time of year for cozy gatherings.

For transparency, I should probably update my Bumble profile to “Looking for an easy-going friend. Willing to take turns driving to each other’s houses. Must love dogs.” Stay tuned for a part 2.