During my senior year at Lehigh, I’m most grateful for the comfortable circles of friends I’ve built around me.

I still hang out with my first-year roommate to share life updates and exchange advice over a walk on the Greenway or with a box of Goodles mac and cheese.

My current roommate encourages me to enjoy the small moments in the form of pumpkin picking, decorating our condo and planning out outfits for the next day. 

I have my friends who helped me foster my kitten, Snooki, over this past summer and never fail to bring me to tears from laughing so much.

I’ve seen the same 40 people in my accounting classes, who I’ve bonded with over confusing case studies and difficult exams. 

Surrounded by all of these people, sometimes I wonder: who are the people I haven’t met yet? What can I learn from them? 

A couple of weeks ago, I went to a party at a girlfriend’s house. I arrived to find not only my usual crew but also a handful of people whom I barely knew. 

I felt embarrassed I hadn’t remembered the names of the two girls sitting on my friend’s couch whispering to one another, or the group of guys in the kitchen who interrupted each other with shouts and outbursts of laughter.

Still talking with my friends, I glanced over to see one girl smile at me. 

At that moment, I debated whether I should smile back and awkwardly dance around a conversation, or if I’d have the courage to say “hi.” 

I became overly conscious of who I am and whether my personality would be well received by the other person. 

Standing on the threshold of new experiences, there’s a tenseness and friction within myself. It’s the fear of pursuing a potentially awkward social interaction without knowing the future outcome. 

I often allow this friction to keep me in my smaller circle where I’m comfortable and away from social vulnerability. But by staying within the boundaries of my established friendships and routines, I’m only limiting myself. 

I decided to talk to those girls, and we bonded over our new kittens and our fashion sense. Leaving that party, I gained two connections, which led me to realize I shouldn’t allow this friction to keep me from the greater community.

Looking back at my underclassman years, I relied on the Lehigh bus system to get around campus. 

I recall observing people talking to friends and people they met while I looked out the window, listening to music by myself. 

Though I was taking public transportation, surrounded by peers, I reserved and guarded myself from interacting with the community. The friction I felt on the bus as a first-year was the same friction I felt at that party a couple of weeks ago, and have felt many times in the years in between. 

My life is a lot like riding the bus. 

While some may stay for the whole ride, others hop on or off at different stops.

My closest friends were once strangers who boarded the metaphorical bus during my childhood, in college and through jobs. 

You never know what a person will mean to your life until you allow yourself to embrace the friction.