On Your 30s, LA, and Trimming the Friend Circle Without Losing Your Mind

Because we don’t have time for performative friendships anymore.

There’s a strange clarity that comes with getting older. You become more discerning, but in a way that can feel a little depressing. By the time you’re in your 30s, you’ve been burned…by friends, by relationships, by work, and even optimism itself. You’ve been beaten down enough times to finally want to learn from it.

But one of the most surprising lessons is the necessary reorganization of where people fit in your life.  It’s often a painful reality that unfolds in two parts. 

First, you realize not everyone you thought was rooting for you actually is. Life becomes more about quietly noticing who’s truly in your corner.  Who’s excited about your wins? Who’s not? And sometimes it’s not even that obvious…it’s more like observing someone shrink, just a little, every time you expand.  So, unfortunately, trust becomes more intentional and not just tossed out freely (my preferred method). 

The second part is outgrowing people you still really love. People stuck in their patterns, lacking the self-awareness required at this age to do the hard work and evolve. They’re not moving at your pace anymore, and every step forward feels like you’re accidentally stretching the space between you. And you can’t fix it. It’s not even yours to fix!

I really don’t want this to come off as some tired middle-aged epiphany: “Friendships change, who knew?” There’s more to it than that.

Because in your 30s, the whole landscape changes. Some people are marrying, some divorcing. Some are having kids, some are still in the same place they were a decade ago. Everything feels more charged, more delicate. It’s a rich, complicated phase, where everyone seems to be reckoning with where they are and where they thought they’d be. 

And then there’s that batch of friends who burrow away with their partner and decide that friendship is an optional hobby rather than a necessary pillar of happiness.  A risky way of thinking IMO.

And with all that, your relationships shift too. The circle shrinks. You’ve gotta snip snip a few people out.

You start keeping it tight, not just because you’re weeding people out, but because the energy to sustain anything less than real just isn’t there anymore. There’s no space left for the half-in, half-out dynamic. When one starts the “Friend Shrinkage Process”, people often ask, “Would this person drive me to the hospital?” but that feels too easy. Honestly, almost anyone with half a heart would do that! Instead, it’s more about asking, “Does this person stick around when things aren’t great? When there’s nothing to gain?” Is the exchange mutual or am I keeping this whole thing afloat?

I genuinely love my friends and want the best for them. But growing up means realizing that just because I want everyone to succeed doesn’t mean the feeling is mutual. That little unease starts creeping in. You sense it after certain conversations. Like noticing a crack in the sidewalk you’ve walked on for years and wondering how long it’s been there.