Slices of Cheese and Smiles from Strangers: Lessons from a Year with No Friends

Dec 21

Written By

MELISSA KUTSCHE

The empty moving truck slowed in front of our house, coming to a stop in the very spot in which a similar truck, full of our belongings, had parked only twelve months before. My husband’s fellowship training had brought us to Northern Virginia for a quick, one-year stint, and the completion of his program meant it was time to move again. Twelve months between moves meant having unpacked boxes in the basement, pictures we never hung on the walls, and many places we meant to visit but never did. Twelve months between moves meant I didn’t make a single new friend that year.

When we arrived in Virginia, I pressured myself to make friends quickly. Our family attended a small group on Sunday nights. I joined a moms’ group and a Bible study, hoping to befriend the women in these communities. As a military spouse, I had made fast friends before and felt confident I could do it again.

I prayed for opportunities to make local friends. Five mornings a week, I made small talk with other parents in the preschool drop-off line, hoping to make a connection. I met our new neighbors and offered to host playdates. During my daughter’s dance class on Saturday mornings, I smiled and said hello, but everyone eased into conversation with the parents they already knew from the previous year. I felt like the new kid in school, scanning the cafeteria for a place to sit, the lunch on my tray feeling heavier by the moment.

My two-year-old son was my constant companion that year, which I dubbed “The Year with No Friends.” We stayed busy with daily outings to the grocery store, swim lessons, and the bakery. On grocery day, we always started in the produce section, placing Honeycrisp apples, green bananas, and broccoli crowns into the cart before rolling over to the deli counter. There, a woman in a white smock and hairnet greeted us each week with a wave, calling out, “What can I get for ya, Hon?”

We took turns sharing about our day while she sliced American cheese and weighed stacks of salami. Without fail, she would hold up a slice of cheese and ask me with her eyes, “May I?” I would smile and nod, Yes, and she would hand the savory snack to my son, his eyes dancing with joy. He loved coming to the deli counter, and it became my favorite place in the store, too. It’s been several years, and I don’t remember the name of the woman from the deli counter, but I remember the warmth of her smile and how it felt to be recognized and remembered.

On Fridays at the bakery, the barista was kind to my son and knew my regular coffee order. When I showed up at my son’s swim lessons on the verge of tears one morning, the other moms didn’t pretend not to see me; they asked me if I was okay. Even in the absence of close connection, the kindness of strangers surrounded me.

No matter the cause—transitioning to a new job, moving to a different community, the everyday busy-ness of life creeping in, and even isolation due to social distancing during the pandemic—we are all bound to experience seasons of loneliness. Here are some of the lessons I learned during a year with no friends:

Small talk can have a big impact. I longed for deep conversations, but sometimes a simple hello in the school drop-off line was the only adult interaction I’d have all day. These surface-level conversations enriched my life, even if they didn’t lead to something more profound.
Get out of the house to get out of your head. It was easy to stay home and wallow in my loneliness. I combated this by intentionally getting out of the house and into the community every day. Interacting with others helped me feel less alone and increased my chances of building relationships.
Seasons of loneliness can still be seasons of growth: I was able to use the time I wasn’t spending with friends to bond with my son, read books, and pursue spiritual growth.
Be the friendly stranger. The woman at the deli counter will never know the impact she had on me that year. She taught me the power of a smile and a friendly face.

My prayers for friendship weren’t answered with a best friend or bosom buddy. Instead, strangers in my path offered kindness and compassion. During one of my loneliest years, smiles from strangers (and slices of cheese) reminded me that I am seen, known, and loved.