You have a group chat. It’s active, full of emojis, memes, and "we absolutely have to see each other" messages.

And yet, you can’t quite remember the last time you were all together in person, laughing until your stomach hurt.

It’s not for lack of desire. And it’s definitely not a whim, nor an optional extra we only squeeze in once everything else is sorted. Social relationships are essential to our well-being, yet they are often among the first things we postpone when life gets busy.

What the research specifically says

When faced with stress, we are most familiar with the "fight or flight" response. In 2000, psychologist Shelley Taylor and her colleagues proposed another framework to better describe certain behaviors observed in women: "tend-and-befriend." Their hypothesis is that in certain stressful situations, social bonding can also help regulate stress. The authors notably explore the potential role of oxytocin, sex hormones, and endogenous opioids in this process.

In other words: seeking out others when you're going through a stressful period is far from trivial. Social support can be one of the ways we regulate our lived experience.

And laughing together isn't trivial either. In a small study using PET imaging on 12 healthy men, a session of shared laughter among friends was associated with a release of endogenous opioids in several brain regions linked to emotion and social bonding. The authors suggest this mechanism could contribute to strengthening social ties. For several years, researcher Robin Dunbar from the University of Oxford has argued that human laughter might play a role in creating and maintaining social bonds—much like mutual grooming in primates, but capable of "touching" several people at once.

A bond that matters, yet one that is shrinking

In France, sociologist Claire Bidart, Research Director at the CNRS (LEST laboratory), has extensively studied friendship as a social bond in its own right, with its own dynamics and transformations throughout life’s journey.

More broadly, indicators of social isolation show that social ties are weakening for a segment of the population. Since 2010, the Fondation de France has tracked a "social isolation barometer." In January 2020, just before the pandemic, 14% of French people were in a situation of social isolation, compared to 9% in 2010. Over that decade, the phenomenon also spread to categories that had previously been relatively less affected, notably young people and the upper-middle class.

In the United States, the contraction of friendship networks is also well-documented—and over a longer period. These American data points don't measure exactly the same thing as the French barometer, but they also indicate a narrowing of some friendship networks: in 2021, 12% of adults reported having no close friends, compared to 3% in 1990. A later report by the same institute, published in 2024, estimated this proportion at 17%—showing that this contraction did not resolve after 2021. Note, a methodological detail that the authors themselves emphasize: the comparison with 1990 should be read with caution, as the survey methods changed in the meantime (telephone, then online), which can influence the responses.

And even without turning a statistic into a universal diagnosis, one thing remains familiar to many adults on both sides of the Atlantic: once school, university, or certain social hubs are behind us, friendships often need to be actively nurtured—and sometimes orchestrated—to keep them alive.

Why this bond so often falls by the wayside

1 — It never seems urgent enough

A work meeting, a sick child, an errand to run: these all seem to have deadlines. Seeing a friend, however, always seems like it can wait until next week. Except that next week, it’s the same story.

2 — It feels like a luxury, not a need

Many women categorize time with friends as a superfluous hobby—even though social relationships actually count toward psychological balance and the feeling of being supported.

3 — We don't really know how to make it happen anymore

As children, many friendships are born in repetitive settings—same class, same neighborhood, same activities. In adulthood, these automatic opportunities are often fewer. One must initiate, propose, and schedule more often—which can become a barrier in itself.

What this doesn't mean

It doesn’t mean you need to meet ten friends every week, nor should you feel guilty if you aren't seeing anyone at the moment.

It means that this need for connection deserves to be considered a true component of your well-being—not as something we save for last, once everything else is done.

And why, specifically, "with the girls" sometimes?

Not because women are incapable of finding support elsewhere. But certain conversations have a specific fluidity when they take place with people who immediately recognize certain experiences: relationship to the body, motherhood, being a partner, work, age, mental load, and various societal pressures.

There are times when not having to explain the context of everything is, in itself, a great relief.

Some concrete ways to start again

1 — Be the one who makes it happen

Waiting for a friend to suggest it first can take months, on both sides. Send the message, pick a date, even without a special occasion—someone has to be the one to start, and it can be you.

2 — Lower the barrier to entry

No need for a three-hour dinner organized a month in advance. A thirty-minute coffee, a phone call while walking, watching a show on video call while each is at home—connection is also built in short, simple formats.

3 — Give form to the "we should hang out"

"Let's schedule something soon" is sometimes the official graveyard of adult friendships. Turning the intention into a date—even if it's far off, even if it's brief—is often enough to move the bond from a wish to reality.

4 — Accept that some friendships change shape

A friendship where you saw each other every day at twenty but only see each other three times a year at thirty-five hasn't disappeared. It has just changed pace. That is not a failure; it is a normal evolution.

5 — Look for new connections, too

Not all friendships come from the past. A class, an activity, or an online or real-life community can also become a great place to meet people—without needing a ten-year history for it to count.

Dear Flemmeuse wanting to laugh and share

This need for connection is neither futile nor superfluous. It contributes to your balance. And the available data shows that in some countries, like the US, friendship networks have shrunk significantly over the decades—and that in France too, social isolation has risen sharply during the 2010–2020 decade, affecting increasingly varied profiles.

The Mail, the Bubble, and everything a box can spark

Flemme Day wasn't designed just to receive products in a box. There is also La Bulle des Flemmeuses: articles to put words to our experiences, but also a space to react, share stories, disagree—and discover that certain questions we thought were very personal are often widely shared.

And there is Le Courrier des Flemmeuses: stories, questions, answers, and pieces of life shared between women who don't necessarily know each other, but who sometimes recognize each other very quickly.

And then there are the moments a box can spark outside the box: sending a photo to a friend, trying something together, calling the person you were supposed to call back "three weeks ago," or simply having a new topic to laugh about.

Because sometimes, connection doesn't need a big occasion. Just a pretext.