Have you ever tried to make plans with friends back in the States and realized it’s basically like trying to book concert tickets? Someone’s “swamped with work,” another one says, “Let’s do next month,” and before you know it, you’re penciling in brunch for 3 months out.
I love my friends back home, but goodness, seeing them started to feel like a chore. It’s not that anyone stopped caring; it’s that life in the U.S. moves at a speed where “free time” has to be fought for. People don’t hang out during the week because they’re tired, busy, or waiting for the weekend, like it’s some golden ticket to start living again.
Then I moved to Spain.
Here, catching up with friends isn’t a thing you have to plan; it just happens. Someone texts “tapas?” and within minutes, you’re sitting outside with a glass of wine, pretending to argue about who’s paying. You bump into people on the street and end up talking for an hour. A “quick coffee” somehow turns into a three-hour chat about life, travel, or what your waiter might be doing later.
There’s no sense of guilt about taking time to enjoy people. No one’s waiting for Friday night to start existing. Spaniards make time now. They value connection in a way that feels… effortless. I used to think I was bad at keeping up with people. But maybe I was just in a culture that made it too hard. Because here, friendship doesn’t require a calendar invite; it just requires showing up.
And if any of my U.S. friends are reading this, please know, I love you dearly. Truly. But make time for the people you care about, especially when everyone’s only here for a limited time. It shouldn’t take moving abroad to realize how precious that is, but honestly, maybe that’s what it takes.
Living abroad kind of forces you into this weird math where you’re away from your family and favorite people for ten-plus months, so when you finally get that tiny window to go home, every minute suddenly feels precious. Even if it’s just a summer or a few weeks, you feel it.
This past summer proved it. It took me half the season just to see a few friends, and there were others I didn’t even get to hug once. Part of that is just adulthood, but part of it is the reality that we’re all on our own paths now. Everyone’s schedules clash, people live in different cities, and planning anything in the States feels like organizing a UN summit.
Back home, you basically need a national holiday or a birthday dinner planned six weeks in advance to get a group together. And honestly, that contrast hits harder every year.
Living in Spain has made me see how much I used to put life on hold. Back home, I was that person too, the “let’s wait until the weekend” kind. I didn’t realize how many moments I was skipping over just because they didn’t fit neatly between work and rest. Now, I’m learning that joy doesn’t wait for Saturday. It’s in the random midweek coffees, the unplanned dinners, the “just passing by” conversations that turn into something real.
Love always,
American Girl Meets World
