It seems easy enough: Extend the invite. Show up. Yet, I see it across the board—building a sense of community, of having your “people”—gets exponentially more challenging the older you get.

These days, it seems universal. I spoke to a colleague in her twenties who organized a speed dating event, getting dozens of people interested in attending, only for a handful of women to show up. And a small business owner, who planned a pilates class based on an overwhelming response on Instagram…only to have to reschedule it after just two people signed up (and later, six total, of the 2,000 who showed interest initially).

It’s a question we’re continually asked at PureWow: How do I make friends as an adult? It feels like a lesson we should’ve learned by now, and while you might be quick to blame our loneliness on the pandemic—it certainly exacerbated things, becoming named a full-blown “epidemic”—it’s been a problem long before that.

Simply put, putting yourself out there is hard. You face rejection; of no one showing up; of feeling even more alone afterward.

I couldn’t help but feel that way as I read “Open Invite,” a three-page feature story in the fall issue of Joanna Gaines‘s Magnolia Journal. The first page featured a faux bulletin board riddled with community events, from a macaron-making meetup to a “Pancakes and Push-Ups” get-together for dads to exercise and brunch in the park.

“Imagine what would happen if we papered our towns and cities with invites like these—pinning up announcements for come-one, come-all gatherings,” the author wrote. “Instead of feeling disconnected or indifferent, we’d experience how opening our doors to one another is one of the most beautiful ways to live this life.”

On the following two pages, the magazine shared six real-life examples of people who have built unconventional clubs, from a kitchen café to Motor Mondays, where a mechanic invites young people to his garage to learn how to care for their cars and fix basic issues with them.

The story was inspiring; this was exactly what I was looking for! I’d been living in a “new” town for seven years now and didn’t have a single local friend; everyone was far-flung, from my previous lives living in Astoria and Florida. And yet, despite how much I wanted a community where I live now, I found myself stalling and coming up with excuses why I couldn’t quite start a club or group at the moment. But maybe soon. Maybe later.

But likely, never.

Not if I didn’t take action. Because I’d always be too busy, and I bet you’ve felt the same way. It’s hard to sit through those awkward first conversations with people you don’t know, or setting up the book club, only for one other person to show up. We long for those connections where you just click and can talk for hours, but most friendships don’t start that way.

It’s uncomfortable as you seek common ground. While organizing an ongoing club or event can feel like a lot, I’ve found it’s easier to take baby steps toward building connection.

My husband and I started going to our local coffee shop twice a week in the mornings, before work. It’s right near our daughter’s school, so after drop-off, we connect with each other, saying hi to people as they come in. A familiar face from drop-off starts as a simple hello and “how are you?” Gradually, we start to talk about school, the latest specialty latte on offer, the weather. Soon, more details unfurl, and before long, we’ve started to get to know other regulars.

Suddenly, I’m feeling less alone in the town we decided to call home. Eventually, I’d like to start a cookbook club or a craft meetup. I’m starting to get to know other moms.

Yes, putting yourself out there is awkward. Yes, there are a million other asks upon your time. But getting to that point of connection—where you have someone you can grab coffee with or share that batch of cookies you just made because you need to be saved from yourself—is worth it.

So thank you for the kick in the pants, Mrs. Gaines. I needed it.