Surrounded
Jan 14, 2026 | By Aerin McLaughlin ES ‘26
“You are who you surround yourself with” is a common phrase that is often regarded as an important piece of advice for navigating friendships. Although we hear it often, and maybe even repeat it ourselves, we seldom understand what to take from it. In the days before we lose our innocence, questions regarding our friend’s integrity are not quite as important as questions regarding their favorite color or movie. But as we age, our perception of the world quickly changes, and so do our questions. It is natural to wonder just how much of an influence friends can or should have on us. It is also natural to question just how much we can or should, in return, influence them. Oftentimes, these questions run through our minds anytime we attempt to separate ourselves from those we spend time with.
Growing up, I was frequently told to be careful about who I chose to hang around. Teachers, parents, and pastors alike consistently shared this message to me, sometimes in dramatic ways.
During this time, I was taught that amongst the dangers of “bad friends” was the possibility of never becoming successful or becoming an unlikable person. Thus, I became afraid to venture out and make new friends. I became afraid my current ones would change. And unfortunately, I became more and more afraid of what my own future might look like if I did not stick with the “right” people.
As the years went on and I made it to college, I continued to find myself questioning whether the notion “you are who you surround yourself with” is true. I often attempted to come up with the answer on my own. After ostracizing myself at Yale for several semesters, I finally decided to get out of my shell and become more social. I attended parties, participated in drinking games, went out downtown, and felt free for once. I made new friends every time I went out for functions. I was so excited because I found people who thought I was fun to be around. Every weekend, I looked forward to texts from multiple people asking me to go out with them. But every weekend at the bar or at a party became every Friday. Then Thursday. Then somehow I found myself at the bar on a Wednesday, pushing my homework to the side because I thought it was important for me to be social, build connections, and relax.
Ultimately, it was easy at the time for me to understand that people, myself included, are not always defined by “good” or “bad” behaviors and qualities. Friendships where two people do not so easily align are typically celebrated. Fellowship with a diverse group of people is held with high regard in our culture. College brochures, commercials, and movies alike depict friendships between two people who come from different backgrounds or who differ in personality.
We see nerdy characters befriended by the popular crowd or watch our classmates with different majors and religions bond over other aspects of life. But I learned these kinds of friendships can also be accompanied by a difference in values. I didn’t quite understand how to discuss my values with the people in my life, nor did I feel confident discussing those values with them, even when I felt like it was important. I was faced with the truth that if I did not understand which values meant the most to myself first, I would never be able to recognize which shared values I wanted to seek in others and ultimately, how to prioritize them in my friendships.
Finding someone who is just like us can be equally complex and limiting. These kinds of friendships have the potential to facilitate the prolonging of potentially destructive habits, behaviors, and mentalities. These types of friendships might even limit our own ability to heal, move on, or learn from a diversity of experiences. It can be difficult to bond with someone who has never been through what we have been through or who doesn’t partake in some of the activities we enjoy. At Yale, I began to feel as though bonding with my friends was only possible during our social outings, and so I continued to seek out those spaces where I was comfortable.
Engaging in a community at Yale, whether it be through sports, clubs, or dance groups, is what every freshman strives for. But even then, a friend who is just like us in positive ways can be led astray, and so can we. Our friends also naturally change as we grow older. It’s important that we are intentional in our decisions to maintain, end, or alter these relationships when we feel as though our friends are evolving in ways we may not understand.
Eventually, I would often come back to my room after having been surrounded by dozens of people, only to feel so lonely. I felt a conviction with myself that maybe I should be spending more time with the friends I had since elementary school, or the people I’ve met at Yale who held me in my darkest moments. But some of those friends did not like to attend big parties or put away their priorities for the sake of “fun” every time I was ready to put aside mine.
One morning I felt so terrible, both physically and mentally, that I sat down and prayed for the first time in weeks because I was tired of the activities I had been engaging in. I was tired of coming back at night from partying feeling worse about myself. I was tired of feeling as though no one could understand why I was so unsatisfied with life. I had been avoiding God for so long that I had almost forgotten how to pray to Him, and so I sat there with tears streaming down my face. I thought, “God, how have I strayed so far from you? Who do I blame?” I wiped my eyes and got ready for the one class I could manage to attend. I waited for an answer from God all day. I was met with what I thought was silence.
That night I went out again, even though I knew I did not want to anymore. “But it’ll be fun! You work so hard, we all work so hard, we deserve to let loose and have a good time,” people would say to me. I began to feel as though the good times I had with this specific crowd were always in the same places. I realized we really had little in common. Yet, on many occasions, these friends were there for me, too. They were there for me when I showed up to our plans in distress from the difficult day I had. They were there for me when I drunkenly wandered off from them with no explanation, putting myself in danger. I felt as though I could really be vulnerable with them when we were together, but I only saw them in specific contexts. I knew I needed to express to them that I wanted to spend more time outside of parties, bars, or an occasional meal. Time and time again, I failed.
I did not feel like I belonged to any of the groups at Yale, nor did I feel intelligent when I compared myself to my classmates— an experience I’m sure many of us have had at some point. My friends from home and my other close friends I met at Yale would always tell me how capable I was. They would flood me with reassurance of how much they loved me, how they admired all of my qualities, how they missed me. Still, I pushed them away.
One random day, I asked my classmate if she went to church at all. She said yes, but she had not yet found a church in New Haven. That Sunday, we went to my church together. She knew all of the songs and sang them with me. As I pulled out my notebook and bible, she pulled out hers. I never believed anyone would ever come to church with me, so I never asked my current friends. From that point on, I decided I would not make assumptions about their willingness anymore. I had never even given them the chance to show it to me.
I began to check up on my childhood friends and reached out to my close ones at Yale that I had been avoiding. For the first time, I shared with both friend groups just how much I was struggling. I told them about how I felt far from God, how I didn’t want to party so much anymore, and how I felt extremely lonely. I was nervous they would take offense or they wouldn’t know what to say. Once again, my fear was wrong. Before I knew it, my friends were planning days for us where we could watch a movie, work out together, study, or vent. Some of them even offered to attend church with me and the classmate I had befriended. And the ones who did not feel compelled to attend with me promised they would always be open to listening to me share about my faith.
Eventually, I came to God again. This time, I knew I would no longer be met with what I thought was silence. I prayed this change in my life would be permanent; everything else I tried to do to make me feel connected to others was almost always temporary. As I opened my eyes, I noticed my breathing had slowed down. The shakiness in my hands from my anxiety began to ease, and tears fell onto my lap. I was sure that this day, they were happy tears. Although I was physically alone in my room, I knew in my heart and mind that I was not by myself. I was never alone. God was with me the entire time. He worked through the people who cared for me, old and new. He watched over me, saving me from myself on countless occasions, and I didn’t even know it!
Perhaps you can identify with some of these struggles that seem to taint us as we enter early adulthood. Maybe you too come back from social spaces unsatisfied. Maybe you’re afraid you might be alone forever, never finding community. It is easy to be overcome by fear and search for solace in other people. Discovering who God has intended to be in our lives is often a process of trial and error, one that can be filled with pain, frustration, and doubt. But when you think about where you can be vulnerable, the shared activities that bring you and your friends closer to God, and the social spaces that leave you feeling surrounded by love instead of isolation, finding friendship with people who bring out the best in you begins to feel a little simpler to navigate.
God has a powerful way of working through people. Find hope in believing He has plans for your life, plans that include friendships designed by Him. In your moments of loneliness, remember He has been with you. He has been with you when you were living with faith, and he has been with you when you were led astray. When it feels as though no one else could be there for you, remember He has loved you, He has called you by your name, and He has given you the tools to navigate your friendships with love, confidence, and vulnerability.
It is easy to want to give up on your friendships and to give up on yourself. On many days, I felt the temptation of hopelessness. When I remembered God has never given up on me, and that He never will, I knew this temptation would not overcome me. I came to believe it was true that I was who I surrounded myself with, but this time my belief was not rooted in fear. It was rooted in courage— courage to create the friendships that served a purpose in my life and the courage to recognize when a friendship might need to change for the better.