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You came here to read things longer than a caption? In this economy? I love that for us.
Your screen time report thanks you in advance.
The one question I get all the time: “Jaime, how the hell do you to make friends as an adult, especially as an alcohol-free gal?”
Three weeks ago, I moved from California to a small mountain town in Georgia, knowing exactly one person – my best friend, who was kind enough to let me stay in her guest room while I figure out the rest of my life – and zero other humans within a reasonable radius.
No job to walk into.
Zero coworkers to default to.
No familiar coffee shop where the barista knows my order and counts as a social interaction for the day.
Just me, a new town, and the very real question of how a forty-something introverted sober woman goes about building an actual community from the ground up.
In this guide, I’m sharing exactly how I’ve been meeting new people, making friends as an adult, and building a sober community from scratch after moving across the country.
Since landing here, I have been actively discovering just how many ways there are to meet genuinely cool people when you stop looking for them in bars, and I want to give you every single one of them, because this question comes up constantly in the sober space and the answers are almost always disappointingly generic:
“Join a club!” they say. “Try a hobby!” Very helpful, @jenni542087_blessednotstressed. Thank you so much for the most vanilla advice ever.
This is not that post. This is the specific, tactical, real-experience version, with apps, platforms, real stories, and the actual mindset shift that makes all of it work, because the loneliness that follows quitting drinking is one of the most unspoken parts of this whole journey, and you deserve a real roadmap.
The friendships that fade when you stop drinking are real. The boredom when bars stop being your default social outlet is real. And so is the community waiting on the other side – you just need to know where to look.
Because we’re not going to skip past it. When you quit drinking, especially if your social life was built around bar culture the way mine was, there is a period, sometimes a long one, where things get very quiet. The group chats slow down. The invitations dry up. The friendships that were built on a shared love of drinking quietly dissolve without anyone making an announcement about it, and you find yourself wondering if you’re the problem or if this is just what happens.
Let me yell this: It’s just what happens. And it’s one of the things I talk about in the “Six Stages of Living an Alcohol-Free Life” blog – the grieving stage, where the social life you built starts to fall away before the new one has fully taken shape. That gap is real and it’s uncomfortable and it doesn’t mean you made the wrong choice. It means you’re in the middle of a transition, and the messy middles are supposed to feel like this.
What I’ve discovered in the 9+ years since I stopped drinking, and particularly in the last three weeks of meeting new folks in a completely new place, is that connection is actually everywhere once you stop expecting to find it in the same places you always looked. The bridges are there. You just have to start walking and talking.
Simply going out, living your life, and chatting with strangers about small and big things almost always reveals a bridge in connection. You just have to be willing to open your mouth and start yapping.
I’ll prove it to you with two stories from this week alone a bit later in this blog. Because first, it’s time to break down the elusive “but HOW do you make friends, Jaime?”
Like to hear it? Here it go!
If you’re genuinely wondering how to make friends as an adult (which I presume you do), the process is surprisingly simple:
Adult friendships rarely happen overnight. They’re built through repeated proximity and shared experiences. I’ll explain in more detail below, but now let me outline WHERE these types of connections can happen.
Telling you “Go where people gather consistently” is the most vanilla, UNhelpful advice I can give you. So let me share some of the best places to meet people as an adult:
This was the first thing I did when I arrived in Georgia and it delivered almost immediately. Search your town name on both platforms and you will find local Facebook groups, local business accounts, local creators posting about events, restaurant openings, market days, and community happenings that you would never find otherwise. I discovered trivia nights, bingo halls, farmers markets, and a whole calendar of local events I had no idea existed within the first week, and I have been to enough of them that I am starting to recognize faces….for example, two bingo nights in, and my new BFF Clay and his two friends are new, blossoming besties.
This is the rule I gave myself when I arrived and it has produced more genuine connections than anything else on this list. One person, every place, every time. The GM of a local store who turned out to also be from San Diego. The owners of two specialty shops where we traded contact info. New friends at bingo night. The bartender at a local brewery that hosts game nights, who is ALSO living her best Golden Girls life with HER bestie while she finds her footing. And yes, sober women can absolutely go to breweries, especially ones that have stellar mocktail menus and trivia nights that do not require a drink in your hand. The bar is not the enemy. The expectation that you need one is.
I posted on Threads asking where all my Northern Georgia women were at, and I connected with two local women who I now have actual plans to meet up with. This sounds almost embarrassingly simple and it is, because asking directly is something most people are too shy to do, which means the ones who respond are exactly the kind of people you want to meet. They saw your post, they resonated with it, they made the first move. That’s already a filter for cool humans.And it can be as simple as “Where are my N.Georgia girlies at? Just moved here and looking for fun things to do and cool gals to maybe meet up with for morning coffee or a hike”. That type of post got me over 100 likes and dozens of comments.
The library is one of the most underrated community hubs in existence and almost nobody talks about it in the context of adult social life. I visited a few local libraries here and found flyers for a mountain herbs class, a swim aerobics class, a SUP yoga class, and a handful of other things that sounded genuinely interesting and also entirely free. Classes are one of the best ways to meet people because you show up repeatedly, which means the awkward small talk has time to become something more substantial…with a higher chance of planning something AFTERWARDS, like a post-yoga coffee.
I have been doing this deliberately – driving to different towns, finding the coffee shops with the right energy, setting up my laptop, and letting the morning do its thing. You become a regular faster than you think when you show up consistently, and regulars know each other. The creative, remote-work, laptop-open coffee shop crowd is a very specific kind of person and in my experience they are almost always interesting, usually friendly, and frequently the kind of people who become something more than a familiar face over time. And for me, I love being around other dreamers and doers, creative business builders and imaginative writers.
Furniture flipping led me to a connection this week. My morning coffee blog led me to a Threads comment that led to a DM that led to a genuinely exciting conversation. The income streams I’m building this summer are simultaneously building my social life, because every interest you pursue out loud in the world puts you in proximity to people who share it. Your hobbies are not just hobbies. They are community infrastructure. Use them like it.
Beyond showing up in person and posting on social media, there are a handful of platforms specifically designed to solve this exact problem, and some of them are perfect for sober women trying to build a social life that doesn’t revolve around alcohol.
Meetup is the original adult friend-making app and it still works – search your area for groups organized around specific interests and you will find hiking clubs, book clubs, creative writing groups, board game nights, running crews, and more. The beauty of Meetup is that the activity is the point, which takes the social pressure off and gives you something to actually do together, which is how adult friendship actually forms.
Eventbrite is where to find actual events – classes, workshops, pop-ups, concerts, markets, fitness events — happening in your area. Filter by free events if budget is a consideration, and you will find more options than you expect. I use this regularly to find things that sound interesting and then just… go!
Partiful is the app people are using to host and discover social gatherings – think dinner parties, game nights, casual get-togethers – and it has a very organic, non-corporate energy that makes it feel less like a networking event and more like actually being invited somewhere. Worth having on your phone and peeking at from time to time,
If you move your body in any way – running, cycling, hiking, walking – Strava is where the active community lives. You can join local clubs, follow people in your area, and the shared experience of physical activity creates an easy on-ramp to real connection. The Strava community skews more towards active and goal-oriented people, which in my experience maps pretty closely to the kind of people sober women tend to vibe with.
Dry Baby is specifically built for sober social life – sober events, sober meetups, sober-friendly spaces – and if you want to find people who are living the alcohol-free lifestyle and actively looking for community, this is the most targeted option on the list. Worth downloading just to see what’s happening in your area.
Yes, Bumble has a friendship mode and yes, it actually works. Bumble BFF functions like the dating app but for platonic connections – you swipe, you match, you make plans. The people on it are specifically there to make friends, which removes the ambiguity of whether someone is interested in connection or just being polite. Worth trying especially if you’re in a new city or rebuilding your social circle from scratch.
Honestly, still one of the most effective tools for local community. Search your town or neighborhood name, search specific interests, search “sober” plus your city, and you will find groups of real humans who are already gathering around the things you care about, and getting into those groups puts you in the conversation without any pressure to show up anywhere until you’re ready.
I’ve been exploring furniture flipping as one of my income streams this summer, which means I’ve been scrolling Facebook Marketplace and showing up at strangers’ houses to look at pieces, which, it turns out, is an unexpectedly excellent way to meet people. I picked up a piece this week from a woman who, within about four minutes of conversation, mentioned that her best friend was living with her and they’d just moved to the area. Sound familiar? I told her I was doing the exact same thing – just moved from California, crashing with my best friend, starting fresh in the Georgia mountains.
Her friend was in the kitchen and overheard me say San Diego, and suddenly she was in the doorway going: “Did you just say San Diego? My sister lives there and I lived two towns over from your town.” Two towns over from where I had been living in Southern California. In a mountain town in Georgia. Over a furniture flip on Facebook Marketplace.
That is not a coincidence. That is what happens when you leave the house and talk to people. The bridges are everywhere. You just have to open your mouth.
The other story happened online, which I think is important to include because building community in sobriety is not limited to in-person interactions, and this one is a perfect example of how an ordinary moment on social media can turn into a genuine connection when you actually engage instead of just scroll.
I was at a coffee shop working on my sober morning routine blog when I came across a post on Threads from a guy complaining about modern dating (relatable content, obvi) and I clicked on his profile picture because he was holding a coffee mug that said Thug Life. As a self-proclaimed sober gangster whose whole brand is built around the concept of keeping it 💯, I commented immediately.
Within minutes he was in my DMs, and within a few days we’d had the kind of conversation where you keep thinking “Wait, you too?” over and over again – similar lifestyles, similar visions, similar ways of moving through the world. Electric, honestly.
It didn’t end the way I would have written it – he ghosted me like a total man-baby by the end of the week, which I handled the way a fully grown nine-years-sober woman handles things: with one clean text, zero spiral, and a very satisfied feeling about how far I’ve come with sober dating.
The point isn’t that every connection becomes a lasting one. The point is that the connection happened at all, because I commented on a coffee mug instead of just scrolling past.
You never know which comment, which conversation, which random Tuesday in a coffee shop is the one that changes something. The only way to find out is to show up and say the thing.
Adults typically make friends through shared interests, repeated interactions, community groups, hobbies, and local events.
Common places include coffee shops, libraries, meetup groups, volunteer organizations, fitness classes, and community events.
Research suggests casual acquaintances can become friendships after roughly 50 hours of interaction, while close friendships often require much more time.
It can feel harder initially because many social routines revolve around alcohol. However, sober friendships are often built on deeper compatibility and shared values.
I want to end here because I think it’s the most important thing I can tell you, and it’s the thing that doesn’t show up in any app description or community guide.
All of these strategies work because of one underlying shift: you have to actually want to build connections. Not in a toxic positivity way, but in a genuinely open, curious, willing-to-be-surprised way. The version of me that was drinking was not particularly open to unexpected connection, partly because the social lubricant was supposed to be doing that job, and partly because I was rarely fully present enough to notice when a bridge was right in front of me.
Sober, I notice everything. The coffee mug on someone’s Threads profile. The mention of San Diego in a stranger’s kitchen. The woman at bingo who laughed at the same moment I did. These are the moments that become something, but only if you’re paying attention, and only if you say something when you notice them.
You don’t need a bar. You don’t need liquid courage. You need to leave the house, pay attention, and talk to people. The rest takes care of itself more often than you’d think.
The loneliness of early sobriety is a phase, not a permanent condition. The social life on the other side of it, built on things you actually care about, with people who actually see you, in spaces that don’t require you to be anyone other than who you already are, is worth every uncomfortable first conversation and every event you showed up to alone.
I’m building mine right now, in real time, in the Georgia mountains, three weeks in and already surprised by how full it’s becoming. If I can do it here, you can do it wherever you are.
And if you want the ongoing story – the connections, the community-building, the real-time receipts of what an alcohol-free social life actually looks like when you stop waiting for it to happen to you – subscribe to the House of Hypegirl newsletter. Every Tuesday, straight to your inbox.

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