Thoughts Of A Therapist: About Changing Friendships In Your Late Twenties

“Nobody warned me that friendships would quietly change in your late twenties.”

Nobody really talks about it.

That slow drifting. The silent spaces in between texts. The coffee dates that take months to plan, and sometimes never happen at all.

You don’t fight.

You don’t fall out.

You just… stop reaching.

Or they do.

I used to think something was wrong when this happened.

That I did something, or didn’t do enough.

Now I understand it differently.

In your late twenties, life starts to stretch in all directions.

Some friends settle down, others leave the country. Some dive into careers, others into questions.

Schedules fill with partners, children, houses, and healing. And all of a sudden, time becomes more selective.

So do we.

And that hurts sometimes.

Not because love disappeared, but because the shape of connection quietly changed.

When you do find time to meet, it can feel like trying to catch up on the past six months in one sitting.

You talk, they listen. Then they talk, and you listen.

But sometimes, you leave wondering: Was this enough?

Because deep down, friendship often lives in the small things. Not just in those big, occasional catch-ups.

A simple message to say you’re thinking of each other.

A quick “good luck” before that important meeting.

A call to ask if you’re feeling better after that awful flu, or how that first date went.

These are the quiet threads of connection.

Not grand gestures, just presence.

In a time where loneliness is reaching record levels, we’re also more consumed by ourselves than ever.

So, how do we find each other again?

How do we return to that quiet intimacy? Where friendship isn’t just big conversations, but small recognitions?

From a therapeutic lens, I often see people carry silent heartbreak around this when friendships are changing. 

We don’t always have the language for it, but we feel it. In our nervous system, in our longing, in our loneliness.

Maybe changing friendships aren’t always a sign of failure, but of movement.

Maybe it’s okay to mourn the closeness you once had, even if the love is still there.

Maybe you’re not becoming distant, just different.

When was the last time you let yourself grieve a friendship, without blaming yourself or the other?

What would it be like to honour that space with love? How can you be more attentive to yourself in friendships? 

*Please know this can happen at any age, and experiencing it in your late twenties is just an example. 

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Aster Peters is a Social Worker and Licensed Therapist from Belgium, based in Antwerp. She’s particularly interested in the relationships between people in all forms - families, friendships and romantic relationships. She loves having good conversations, ideally over a glass of (natural) wine and delicious food, travelling the world and getting the latest inspiration in fashion and beauty.