If you don’t have a big friendship group, you’ve probably felt like something’s wrong with you.
After all, the point of life is to be super popular and surrounded by people all the time, right? Society has this weird way of making people without loads of mates feel defective, even though there’s actually nothing wrong at all. In fact, according to a recent YouGov survey, most adults have few close friends, with 12% saying they only have one, and 41% saying they have two or three. In other words, most of us aren’t basking in some massive social circle.
Social media makes it look like everyone’s living their best life with dozens of friends.
You scroll through Instagram and everyone seems to be at brunches, festivals, and group holidays constantly. It feels like you’re the only one sitting at home on a Saturday night, even though most of those posts are just highlights from once a month.
The thing is, social media’s basically a show reel of people’s best moments, not real life. You’re comparing your everyday reality to everyone else’s carefully chosen snapshots, which makes you feel like you’re failing at something that’s actually quite normal.
There’s this constant message that your worth is tied to how many people want to be around you.
From school onwards, popularity gets treated like some kind of achievement you’re supposed to rack up. If you’re not surrounded by people all the time, it can feel like you’re somehow less valuable or interesting as a person.
The thing is, having fewer friends doesn’t mean you’re boring or unlikeable at all. Some people just prefer deeper connections with one or two people rather than surface level friendships with loads, and that’s completely valid, too.
Workplace culture assumes you’ll want to socialise with colleagues outside of work hours.
There’s this expectation that you’ll be up for after work drinks, team building days, and office parties all the time. When you’d rather just go home, people start asking if you’re okay or making you feel like you’re not a team player.
It’s perfectly reasonable to keep work and personal life separate, though. Not wanting to spend your free time with colleagues doesn’t make you antisocial, it just means you have boundaries about where you put your energy.
Films and telly constantly show friendship as this massive group of people who do everything together.
Every sitcom and drama seems to feature a tight-knit gang who are basically family to each other. When your life doesn’t look like an episode of “Friends” or “The Inbetweeners,” it’s easy to feel like you’re missing out on something fundamental.
Real friendship doesn’t have to look like what you see on screen, though. Those storylines are written for entertainment, not to reflect how most people actually live, and plenty of happy people have just one or two close connections.
People ask intrusive questions when they find out you spend time alone.
You mention you had a quiet weekend and suddenly people are asking if you’re lonely or if everything’s alright at home. There’s this assumption that being alone equals being sad, which makes you start questioning whether you should feel bad about enjoying your own company.
Spending time alone is actually healthy and doesn’t mean anything’s wrong with you. Some people recharge by being around other people, some people recharge in solitude, and neither way is better than the other really.
Major life events are designed around having a big support network to celebrate with.
Weddings, milestone birthdays, even baby showers all seem built for people with huge social circles. When you don’t have dozens of people to invite, these events can feel awkward or like you’re somehow failing at adulting properly.
Of course, the size of your guest list doesn’t reflect your worth or how loved you are. A small gathering with people who genuinely care about you beats a massive party full of acquaintances any day of the week.
Mental health conversations often link loneliness with not having enough friends.
Every article about combating loneliness suggests joining clubs, making more friends, and expanding your social circle. It sends this message that if you’re not constantly building friendships, you’re going to end up depressed and isolated somehow.
Loneliness and being friendless aren’t actually the same thing at all. You can have loads of friends and still feel lonely, or have very few friends and feel completely content with your connections and your own company.
Dating profiles and apps put huge emphasis on how social and outgoing you are.
Everyone’s profile seems to mention their amazing friend group or how much they love being around people constantly. If you’re more of a homebody or prefer smaller social settings, it feels like you’re automatically less attractive as a partner.
Obviously, being less social doesn’t make you less dateable. Plenty of people actually prefer partners who value quiet time and deeper connections over constant socialising, so you’re not limiting yourself by being honest about who you are.
Self-help culture pushes networking and relationship building as the key to success.
Business books and career advice constantly bang on about networking and how your success depends on who you know. It makes having fewer connections feel like a professional failing rather than just a personal preference about how you live.
Plenty of successful people got where they are through skill and hard work rather than massive networks. Quality connections matter more than quantity anyway, and you can build a fulfilling career without pretending to be someone you’re not socially.
Family gatherings often include pointed questions about your social life.
Relatives love asking why you never bring friends round or whether you’ve made new mates recently. These questions, even when well-meaning, make it feel like your family thinks something’s wrong with you for not having a bustling social calendar.
Your family probably just worries because society’s taught them that having fewer friends equals unhappiness. You don’t owe anyone an explanation for how you choose to spend your time or who you choose to spend it with, though.
Public spaces and activities are often designed for groups rather than individuals.
Restaurant tables are set up for parties, activities like escape rooms or paint nights assume you’ll bring mates, even cinema loyalty schemes give discounts for groups. Going alone can feel awkward because everything seems built around the assumption you’ll have people with you.
There’s absolutely nothing sad about doing things solo. Once you push past that initial weirdness, it’s actually quite freeing to do what you want without having to coordinate with other people’s schedules or preferences.
Therapy and counselling often focus on improving your social connections as a goal.
Even when you see a therapist for something completely unrelated, conversations often drift towards your friendships and whether you’re getting enough social interaction. It reinforces this idea that having fewer friends is something that needs fixing, rather than just how some people are.
A good therapist should support what works for you personally, rather than pushing you towards some idealised social life. If you’re genuinely content with fewer connections, that’s something to respect rather than something to change about yourself.
There’s barely any positive representation of people who are happy without big friend groups.
Stories celebrating solitude or people who prefer their own company are pretty rare compared to narratives about friendship saving people. This lack of representation makes it harder to see that living differently from the majority is actually perfectly okay and normal.
You’re not broken for having fewer friends or preferring time alone. Society’s obsession with constant socialising doesn’t reflect reality for loads of people, and living in a way that actually suits you is far healthier than forcing yourself into a mould that doesn’t fit.
