I’m based out of Brooklyn, New York, but these days, “home” is more of a launchpad than a fixed destination. I might be working from a café in Buenos Aires one month, then finding my rhythm in a co-working space in Prague the next. Living as a digital nomad is full of incredible highs—freedom, discovery, and that electric feeling of stepping into the unknown. But here’s something people don’t talk about enough: it can get lonely.

When you’re always on the move, making friends isn’t as simple as joining your coworker for happy hour or running into the same faces at your neighborhood bodega. You’re not rooted in one place, and that sense of continuity—those long-term connections most people build over time—can be hard to find. Still, what I’ve learned over the years is that friendship on the road is possible. In fact, it can be even deeper and more intentional than anything I had back when I was working a 9-to-5 in New York full-time.

The First Few Months Were the Hardest

When I first started traveling full-time, I wasn’t prepared for the emotional whiplash. I had this image in my head of meeting fellow travelers instantly, forming spontaneous friend groups, and having dinner parties in every city I visited. But the reality hit differently. My first few destinations were amazing on the outside—beautiful views, great food, vibrant local cultures—but inside, I was craving connection. I’d sit in coworking spaces surrounded by people, headphones in, everyone typing away, and still feel completely alone.

Back home in Brooklyn, I had my people. My roommates, my go-to baristas, my late-night crew that knew me since college. On the road, you’re essentially starting from scratch over and over again. That realization stung.

Learning to Put Myself Out There

Eventually, I realized that if I wanted to make connections while traveling, I had to be proactive. That meant stepping out of my comfort zone. I started signing up for group walking tours, joining local events through apps like Meetup or Couchsurfing, and saying yes to invitations even when I felt tired or unsure. I found that most people—especially other travelers or remote workers—are also looking for community. You just have to open the door.

One of the turning points for me happened in Medellín, Colombia. I’d joined a coworking space for a month and kept noticing the same group of people laughing together on the terrace. One day, I introduced myself. We ended up grabbing lunch, and that turned into weekend hikes, shared dinners, and even a trip to Guatapé. That month became one of the most socially fulfilling periods of my nomad life—and it all started because I said hello.

Friendships on Fast-Forward

What’s wild about meeting people while traveling is how quickly you can bond. There’s no small talk for weeks on end. People dive into real conversations fast—about dreams, heartbreaks, family, identity. When you know someone might only be in town for a few weeks, you tend to skip the surface-level stuff. That intensity can be beautiful. I’ve had late-night talks in hostel lounges that felt more meaningful than some friendships I held for years.

But it’s also tough. Goodbyes happen often. You form these incredible connections and then you—or they—move on to the next destination. There were times when I questioned whether it was worth it. Why open up if the friendship might only last a month? But the truth is, some of those “short-term” friends have stuck around longer than I expected. We keep in touch. We meet again in other cities. A few have even visited me back in Brooklyn.

Creating a Global Community

One of the coolest things about this lifestyle is that over time, your circle becomes global. I now have friends I can call in Tokyo, Cape Town, Berlin, and Lima. When I show up in a new city, there’s often someone I met months—or even years—ago who’s passing through, living there, or happy to show me around. It’s this informal web of people who understand the highs and lows of living untethered.

Still, I’ve found it important to maintain connection with people back home, too. I make time for Zoom calls with my best friends in New York, check in with family regularly, and try to show up in real ways, even if I’m physically far. Because no matter how many places I visit, Brooklyn is still part of me. It grounds me.

Finding a Balance

Now that I’ve been living this way for a few years, I try to balance solo time and social time more intentionally. I don’t say yes to every invite, and I don’t beat myself up if I go a few days without meeting someone new. Not every city is going to feel like a social win—and that’s okay.

Sometimes, the best connections happen when you least expect them. A shared table at a food market turns into a deep conversation. A hiking group becomes a found family for a week. A quiet co-working space leads to a new business idea with a fellow traveler.

The key is staying open. Open to people, open to the moment, and open to the fact that friendships can take many forms—even if they don’t fit the mold of what we’re used to.

Living on the road doesn’t mean giving up on real connection. It just means building it differently. It means being brave enough to start conversations, to be present, and to let people in—even if you’re not sure how long they’ll stay.

Some of my closest friends today are people I met thousands of miles from where I grew up. And in a strange way, that makes the world feel smaller, kinder, and more connected. No matter where I go, I know I’m never really alone.