Living in London taught me many things. How to walk fast. How to squeeze onto the Tube without making eye contact. How to spend forty minutes travelling somewhere that looked "just around the corner" on Google Maps.
London has given me a lot. But it also taught me one of the toughest lessons. You can build a great life on paper and still feel like something is missing.
A good job. A nice flat. A busy calendar. None of those things mean much if you don't have people to share them with.
The strange thing is that modern life quietly convinces us that friendships can wait. "Once work calms down." "When things are less busy." But life rarely slows down.
I remember one Sunday. The sun was finally out. If you've lived in London long enough, you know that the first proper sunny day of the year feels like an event. Everyone was heading to the park. I wanted to do the same.
The only problem was that I had nobody to call.
It sounds like such a small thing. But I remember thinking... How can I live in one of the biggest cities in the world and not know who to text? Looking back, I think that's the day Park Social was born.
It's crazy when you think about it. We have Netflix. Instagram. YouTube. Dating apps. Endless entertainment.
I've used all those things too, and there's nothing wrong with them. None of them are the problem. The problem is that they can keep us just comfortable enough that we stop fixing what we're actually missing. For me, it wasn't more entertainment. It was connection.
Sometimes all you need is a friend who helps you get out of your own head.
Someone who reminds you that today isn't the end of the world. Someone who simply says, "Fancy grabbing a beer?" It's amazing how much one good friend can change your life.
And I'm going to be honest. For years I genuinely believed that after thirty you just didn't make friendships like that anymore. I thought your closest friends were the ones you met at school or university, and after that you simply accepted that life moved on.
Thankfully, I was completely wrong.
Through Balancers I've met people I know I could call in the middle of the night. People who would genuinely have my back. That has been one of the greatest gifts this community has given me.
That's why Balancers exists.
Not because London needs another event. London already has thousands of events. What I think we're missing are places people know they can come back to.
Places where arriving alone doesn't need an explanation. Places where strangers slowly become familiar faces, and familiar faces become friends. Where, before you realise it, you've got people to message on a sunny Sunday morning.
Over the last few years I've realised something else. Communities aren't built by organisers. They're built by ordinary people who choose to care.
The person who notices someone standing on their own and walks over to say hello. The person who makes room for one more chair. The person who introduces two strangers. Those moments might seem small. But they're the reason people come back.
That's the culture I hope we keep building together.
So if you ever come to Balancers, don't come trying to impress anyone. Come exactly as you are.
I don't care what trainers you wear. I don't care what car you drive. I don't care how many followers you have. None of that matters here. What matters is whether someone leaves feeling happier because you were there.
So next time you come to Balancers, don't just think about the people you'll meet. Think about one person you could make feel welcome. You might end up changing their whole evening.
If there's one thing I've learnt, it's this. Don't wait until life slows down before building your social life.
Because it probably won't.
And one day you'll wake up, the sun will finally be out, and you'll already know exactly who to text. I hope that's the kind of London we can keep building together.