There’s a reason longevity researchers keep circling back to one truth: the strength of our social connections matters as much as what we eat or how much we exercise. Community isn’t just nice to have—it’s essential to thriving as we age. But here’s what they don’t always tell you: that community is supposed to evolve.

The Friends Who Stay, The Friends Who Go

I’ve kept exactly two friends from my teenage years. One moved to Australia over fifteen years ago. Another left for the US more than twenty-five years back. We’re connected by history, by the people we were when we thought we knew everything and actually knew nothing at all. Those roots run deep, even across oceans and time zones.

But life has a way of reshaping us. When I relocated to Bangkok over two decades ago, I didn’t just change cities—I changed. New friends emerged in this City of Angels, a mix of locals and fellow wanderers who understood this particular chapter of my story. Then there’s the New Yorker I met in New Zealand—we were both on sabbaticals, taking time to breathe and figure things out. Something about that space, that freedom from our regular lives, allowed a real friendship to form. We’ve since visited each other, navigated the brutal time difference with video calls that require someone to always be either very early or very late. Yet we make it work. Geography, it turns out, is negotiable when connection is real.

The Uncomfortable Truth About Growing Apart

Recently, I had to acknowledge something difficult: a friend who was once in my inner circle has drifted away. She embraced a different religious path, and with it came a closed-mindedness I couldn’t reconcile with my own values. Openness, curiosity, the willingness to question—these matter to me. When those disappear from a friendship, what’s left?

It hurt. It still does. But I’m learning that growing apart isn’t a failure—it’s just evidence that we’re both still growing.

At the same time, I’ve reconnected with someone I met more than fifteen years ago. Back then, we were acquaintances at best. But she’s evolved, become more grounded, and somewhere along the way our values aligned. Now she’s someone I turn to, someone who gets it. Funny how timing works.

You Are the Average

There’s this saying that you’re the average of the five (or ten) people you spend the most time with. When I first heard it, I rolled my eyes. But the older I get, the more I see its truth—not in some deterministic way, but in how our closest relationships shape our perspective, our habits, our sense of what’s possible.

It’s worth asking: Who are those people in your life right now? Do they challenge you to be better? Do they accept you as you are while encouraging you to grow? Do you leave their company feeling energized or depleted?

This isn’t about keeping score or coldly calculating who serves your interests. It’s about being honest. Some friendships need more investment. Some need less. Some need to be released with love. And there’s always room for new people who might just change everything.

Building Your Longevity Community

The research on longevity is clear: people with strong social connections live longer, healthier lives. But “strong” doesn’t mean “unchanging.” It means deep, authentic, mutual.

As I split my time between Bangkok and Singapore now—roughly a quarter in one, the rest in the other—I’m conscious of nurturing connections in both places. It takes effort. Video calls with my friend in New York. Making time for new friendships that are still taking shape. Being present with the ones who’ve stood the test of time and distance.

Friends Choose You, You Choose Friends

Sometimes friendship feels like fate—you meet someone and it just clicks. Other times it’s deliberate, a conscious decision to invest in someone you admire or enjoy. Both are valid. Both are necessary.

What I’m learning is that the common thread isn’t how we find each other, but whether we’re willing to keep showing up, even as we change. Especially as we change.

Because here’s the thing: if you’re living fully, you’re going to evolve. Your values might sharpen or shift. Your interests will deepen or drift. And the people who were perfect companions for one season might not fit the next. That’s not betrayal—that’s life.

The Permission to Refresh

Give yourself permission to reassess. Not with cruelty or judgment, but with honesty and care. Who do you need more of? Who do you need less of? Where is there space for someone new?

Your community isn’t a museum. It’s a garden. Some plants thrive for decades. Some bloom for a season and then fade. Some you thought were weeds turn out to be exactly what you needed all along.

Tend to it. Let it change. Trust that the friends who are meant to stay will, and the ones who aren’t will make room for something—someone—you can’t yet imagine.

Because at the end of the day, longevity isn’t just about years. It’s about quality, connection, and the courage to keep opening your heart to the possibility of being known—really known—by the right people, at the right time, for as long as it matters.

And that, my friends, is a life well lived.