Still Searching for My Kind of People

Sometimes I wonder why it feels so difficult to find the right people. Not just people—but the ones who feel like home, the ones who see me for who I am without asking me to shrink, hide, or mold myself into something more “palatable.”

“Still searching, but holding onto hope.”

It’s not that I’m lonely all the time. It’s that I crave connection that goes beyond polite conversations and surface-level company. I want to find the friendships that run deep—the kind where laughter is easy, silence is comfortable, and the love and care flow both ways.

I want my people.

That phrase feels different than just saying “friends.” My people are the ones who share a rhythm with me, who speak a language of heart and soul that feels familiar even when we’ve only just met. They’re the ones who, when I’m with them, remind me I don’t have to try so hard.

And yet, if I’m honest—it’s still really hard to find them.

There are days I wonder if I’ve been searching in the wrong places, or if something about me makes it harder to connect. Sometimes it feels like fumbling through the dark, reaching out, hoping someone will reach back. And sometimes, the silence can feel like rejection even when it isn’t.

And lately, since I quit my job over a year and a half ago, it’s been even harder. Without the natural rhythm of coworkers or daily interactions, I often find myself unsure of when or how to reach out. Everyone else seems so busy—working, raising families, living full lives—and I don’t want to feel like I’m interrupting or asking for more than they have to give.

So instead, I stay quiet.

But that doesn’t mean I’m not thinking of them. In fact, I’m always thinking of the people I care about, replaying old conversations in my mind, wondering how they’re doing, hoping they’re okay. I hold them in my heart, even if I never hit “send” on the text.

And still, I can’t help but wonder—does anyone ever think about me too?

“I wonder if anyone ever thinks about me too.”

I think part of the struggle is that we live in a world that makes connection look easy. Social media shows us endless highlight reels of friendship groups laughing together, always surrounded by people, always belonging. It can leave me wondering, Why not me? But what I’ve come to realize is that real friendship—true, soul-deep friendship—isn’t built overnight.

It takes time. It takes courage. And it takes being willing to risk vulnerability again and again.

The truth is, I’ve met people along the way who were kind, who were lovely, but they weren’t my people. And that’s okay. Not every connection is meant to last a lifetime. Some are stepping stones, some are teachers, and some simply remind me of the qualities I do want in a friend.

I’ve also learned that solitude, as hard as it can be, has given me space to grow. It’s taught me more about who I am and what kind of friendships I truly long for. Maybe this season of searching isn’t wasted time—it’s preparation. It’s me learning how to be fully myself so that when my people come along, I’ll recognize them instantly.

And that’s the part I’m holding onto: the hope. That steady whisper inside that says, Your people are out there. Keep going.

Because one day, the searching will shift into finding. One day, paths will cross. And one day, I’ll look back and realize that every moment of doubt, every tear shed in the ache of loneliness, every brave attempt to open myself up again—it all led me closer to them.

Until then, I keep my heart open. I keep believing. And I remind myself that even in the waiting, I am not unworthy of love.

“One day, the searching will shift into finding.”

💭 Do you ever feel like you’re still searching for your kind of people too?

Rooted in hope, open-hearted, and waiting for my people.

Blessed Be,

Bobbi Ann

“While I keep searching for my people, I’m also learning to ground myself in self-love. Here’s a post on Grounding Crystals that helps me in the waiting.”