I Needed to Make a Decision for Myself
For a while, I felt like my weekends were already decided before they started. The same group. The same plans. The same parties.
There wasn’t anything wrong with it, but I realized I wasn’t asking what I really wanted to do with my free time.
Who was I really?
What did I care about?
Was I just passing time?
So, I started going more of my own way—not because I suddenly didn’t like my friends or social life—but because I wanted to see what would happen if I started making more decisions for myself.
I Started Following My Own Interests
Nothing changed overnight. I just filled my weekends differently.
I sifted through the mess of LEGO in my basement, remembering how much I loved building LEGO City sets with my brother. It reminded me of being little and searching the beach with my metal detector.
Could there be something valuable hidden in all those pieces too?
I quickly learned that some LEGO minifigures were collectible. Before long, my basement had turned into a small resale operation. I bought old LEGO collections from friends, searched for valuable figures, and resold them on eBay.
I also spent weekends helping my dad around the yard. At first, the quiet time outside simply let my brain reset after a busy week at school. Then I started enjoying the work itself—picking up sticks, pulling weeds, trimming hedges, and seeing the property change.
I noticed some of our trees were dying. So my dad taught me how to safely use an axe and chainsaw, and I started turning dead trees into firewood.
Yardwork gave me a sense of purpose I hadn't felt when I was just moving from one weekend activity to the next.
None of it was part of a plan to meet people or create opportunities.
I simply liked choosing my own work and seeing the results. I wasn't asking what everyone else was doing and then deciding whether I wanted to join. I was starting with myself.
What am I interested in?
What would I actually enjoy spending my Saturday doing?
Those simple questions changed how I spent my time.
Connections I Never Went Looking For
Then something unexpected happened.
Kids I barely knew started texting me to ask if I'd buy their old LEGO. Eventually, it became more than I could handle, so I asked a few of them to help find inventory for a cut of the profits.
One of those strangers eventually became a good friend. We started by talking about buying and selling LEGO, but before long we were talking about everything else.
It surprised me how quickly we became friends simply because we were both excited about the same thing.
My nine-year-old next-door neighbor noticed that I was always outside doing something—chopping wood, pulling weeds, building fires to burn brush.
Apparently it looked like fun because my fires became smoke signals that drew him into my yard. I’d show him how to trim bushes and safely start a fire, and he’d tell me funny stories about his friends getting in trouble on the playground.
There was a seven-year age difference between us, but once we were outside working side-by-side, it didn't seem to matter.
Then there was my neighbor Steven, who noticed me cutting down trees, chopping wood, and building an enormous woodpile.
One day, he stopped my mom and asked if I could work for him. Before this, most of our interaction consisted of him getting annoyed when my fireworks shows scared his dog.
As I worked for him—cutting dead trees, doing yardwork, or snowblowing his driveway—I actually got to know him. He made incredible sourdough bread. He'd built a successful pretzel business, creating a life that gave him freedom to travel and go to music festivals he loved.
He stopped being “the neighbor whose dog hated my fireworks” and became someone I found really interesting.
None of this happened because I was trying to build relationships or meet people.
I wasn't networking.
I wasn't trying to make myself known.
I was just doing things I cared about.
And those interests gave people a reason to connect with me.
I Didn't Realize How Small My World Had Become
When most of my free time revolved around one group, it felt like that was my whole world.
Then I started talking to people who were younger than me, older than me, and completely outside my usual circle.
If I'd kept spending nearly every weekend the same way:
My nine-year-old neighbor probably never would've become my friend.
I never would've really gotten to know Steven.
I might not have met some of the people I consider good friends now.
The strange part was that I wasn't trying to expand my world.
I was just building my own.
My World Got Bigger
I used to think that stepping away from the group would make my world smaller. I assumed I’d simply be missing things.
Instead, I found interests that were mine, became friends with people I never expected to know, and stumbled into experiences I never would have planned.
None of that was intentional. I was just trying to figure out what I actually liked doing.
The less I worried about where I fit into everyone else's world, the bigger my own became.
