Friendship in midlife isn’t “hard” because you’re doing it wrong

A conversation with Liz Tomasi on loneliness, community, and flexing the friendship muscle

I didn’t plan for my first podcast guest to feel like a mirror, but that’s exactly what happened.

This episode is special for me because it’s my first guest ever, Liz Tomasi, and honestly, it felt like the kind of conversation women don’t get to have out loud often enough.

Liz and I have been in the same social circles for years, but we reconnected in the most 2025 way possible: I saw her on TikTok… and I was drawn in immediately.

Not because she’s trying to be polished.

Not because she’s trying to impress anyone.

But because she’s real.

Liz shows up with this spunky, no-BS energy that still makes room for the truth: life is messy, parenting is intense, friendships change, and sometimes you’re lonely even when you’re surrounded by people.

And if you’re in midlife, you already know this: the loneliness can feel personal… even when it isn’t.

TikTok as a “video journal” (and why I loved that)

Liz talked about how she didn’t show up on TikTok with some perfectly mapped-out strategy. She described it as a kind of video journaling, a “diary of hyperfixations,” in her words.

And I smiled because… same.

I’ve never been a fan of the “stay in your lane” advice. Some of us are built with multiple lanes. Some of us have a whole highway system in our heads. Liz is like that. I’m like that.

There was something freeing about hearing her say: I don’t know how to be anyone other than myself.

Community as a theme (especially when your kids need you less)

One of the most honest parts of the conversation was when Liz talked about identity, how being a mom to older kids shifts the ground under you.

Her boys are getting older. They need less. And she’s intentionally asking herself: Who am I outside of being mom?

For 2025, her theme is community and friendship not in a fluffy way, but in a real-world way. She joined a run club. She started stepping outside her comfort zone. She’s building a social network on purpose.

And when she said that, it clicked for me:

A lot of us don’t “lose” friends.We lose structure.We lose the built-in community that school, work, parenting phases, and shared routines used to hand us.

When friendships start to feel different

I asked Liz when she noticed friendships changing.

She said something I’ve been thinking about ever since: when you’re younger, friendship can feel effortless like you “collect people,” and suddenly they’re yours.

And then adulthood happens.

You’re busy. You’re juggling everything. And now friendship becomes something you have to prioritize… which can feel strange because you never had to schedule connection before.

Liz also shared a deeper layer: she spent years as a Jehovah’s Witness, and when she left, she lost a community that had been built-in. That kind of loss isn’t just social, it’s emotional. It’s identity. It’s grief.

Starting over in your early 30s, divorcing, leaving a religion, rebuilding a life will teach you who you are in a way nothing else can.

Loneliness and the shame of saying it out loud

This part hit close to home.

I told Liz about a season in my life, early 40s, when I felt lonely in a way I didn’t know how to admit. I had a young child when many of my friends were parenting teens. We were in different life stages, and I felt like I was watching everyone else move forward while I was… stuck in sippy cups and kindergarten drop-off.

And the hardest part wasn’t even the loneliness.

It was the shame of it.

Liz named it: loneliness requires vulnerability. And women aren’t always socialized to admit they need someone. We’re taught to “handle it,” to be everything, to be self-sufficient, to not burden anyone.

But loneliness isn’t a personal failure.

It’s a human response to transition.

Friendship breakups are real grief

Liz said something that deserves to be said louder: we talk about romantic breakups like they’re the only heartbreak that counts. But friendship breakups can be just as painful and sometimes more confusing, because there’s no “official” ending.

And for her, a lot of friendship loss came down to communication, learning how to say what she needed, how to give feedback without exploding, how to own her part, and how to let grief be grief without turning it into gossip.

That’s grown-woman work right there.

Why it feels scarier to make friends now

This question mattered to me because I’m an introvert by nature. Big social spaces can make me feel like I want to disappear into the nearest corner.

Liz’s answer was simple and painfully true:

As we get older, we’re more set in our ways. Time feels more precious. And rejection feels more personal.

When you’re younger, you have endless time and you don’t overthink it.

Now? We can see ten steps ahead. We predict outcomes. We talk ourselves out of reaching out before we even try.

How friendships deepen

Liz gave a beautiful answer here: paying attention.

Knowing your friend’s “love language.” Noticing what matters to them. Remembering small things. Creating a gathering space even when it feels intimate and vulnerable to open your home.

And also: showing up when life gets real.

She talked about being there for a friend fighting breast cancer. The truth is, midlife brings the heavy stuff. If you want deep friendships, you need people who can hold your humanity… and you need to be willing to hold theirs.

What a good friendship looks like now

Liz described wanting friendships where she can be fully herself, big personality, changing hobbies, direct communication, all of it without shrinking.

And I loved when she said: I’ve learned to love my bigness.

There are people who will find your “bigness” to be too much.

And then there are the gems who will say, “You’re a lot… and I love you anyway.”

Hold onto those.

Women supporting women (without the competition)

We talked about that toxic competitiveness women can get pulled into when we’re younger, performing for male approval, trying to be “picked,” feeling like there’s only room for one of us at the table.

Liz said the part that stuck with me: when you sense that energy, it’s usually insecurity.

And the antidote isn’t shaming it.

It’s inviting women into something healthier. The brighter side. The place where we cheer for each other instead of measuring ourselves against each other.

One small step for the lonely mom (or the lonely woman)

I asked Liz what she’d say to the woman who feels lonely, especially a young mom in the thick of little kids.

She said: friendship is like a muscle.

You don’t have to work it hard. But you do have to work it.

Reach out. Check in. Be the one to send the text. Assume people are busy not rejecting you. People aren’t mind readers. And most people have good intentions.

That felt like a gentle push, not a lecture.

And honestly? I needed it too.

What I hope you take from this episode

If you’re feeling lonely in midlife, there’s nothing wrong with you.

If your circle got smaller, you didn’t fail.

If making friends feels scary, it’s because you’re human… and because friendships require vulnerability.

But the good news is: you can build again. Slowly. Intentionally. In your own way.

And you don’t need a million friends.

You just need a few who feel like home.

Watch the Full Interview on YouTube: https://youtu.be/hlBbB_S6MeU

— Viv