When we talk about wealth, social wealth, depth of our connections to others, is often the most overlooked type. We take for granted that when we’re young, we’re surrounded by classmates, teammates, and family. But as life gets busier, friendships become harder to maintain. We forget how essential social wealth really is. You can have money, health, time, even inner peace—but if you’re alone, life will still feel empty. In fact, research shows that social isolation shortens life spans and makes us less happy.
My Social Wealth History
For me, social wealth has always been complicated. I started out life fairly lonely as an only child who moved every four or five years until my late 20s. Each move meant starting over, trying to make new friends, and often saying goodbye before relationships could take root. At 12, I moved from mainland China to the U.S. The culture shock, language barrier, and normal cruelties of childhood made it even harder to connect. I can still remember times when I thought I was close to someone only to feel betrayed when the friendship didn’t hold. Over time, I built up caution. I told myself not to overinvest because I couldn’t trust if my read of the situation was right.
The contrast with my husband couldn’t be sharper. He has friendships that stretch back to grade school and still sees those friends regularly. He has a large, stable social circle. I’ve realized how different we are in this respect and how much my past experiences shaped my approach. Looking back, I see that my early loneliness and constant moves left scars. They made me cautious, hesitant to lean in, and quick to pull back if I sensed distance. Only recently have I fully named this as a kind of trauma.
The turning point for me was after business school, when I finally stopped moving. I settled in San Francisco and have lived in the same apartment complex for 24 years. I built a life here, met my husband, and created stability that I didn’t have before. But even with that stability, I’ve realized how much my past still influences how I show up in relationships today.
Why Social Wealth Matters
Social wealth is one of the biggest predictors of long-term health and happiness. People with strong social ties live longer, recover faster from illness, and report higher levels of life satisfaction. On the flip side, loneliness and disconnection can be as harmful to health as smoking or obesity.
Social wealth isn’t about the number of friends you have—it’s about the depth and quality of those relationships. It’s about having people you can call in a crisis, celebrate milestones with, or just share a laugh on a random Tuesday. It’s about belonging. Without it, even the richest life can feel hollow.
My Current Reality
In my first article on five types of wealth, I gave myself a 5 out of 10 for Social Wealth, and I would say that’s still true. What’s going well is that I do have meaningful relationships I can count on. My husband is my best friend. I have business school friends I’ve kept close over the years. And my older cousin, even though she lives in China, remains a steady and supportive presence in my life. These relationships ground me, and I’m deeply grateful for them.
But the challenge is still there. I’ve realized that my old tendency to protect myself by leaning out is alive and well. For example, with my husband’s friends, I sometimes assume I can’t be close to them because they’re “his” friends, not mine—even though they’ve made efforts to include me. I don’t always reciprocate. It’s not intentional, but it’s there: a lingering hesitation born from old wounds.
At the same time, I’ve been reflecting more on the importance of making new friends in midlife. Chip Conley, in his book Learning to Love Midlife, makes the case that as we live longer, we can’t just rely on the friendships we already have. People move, lives change, and sadly, we lose friends and family over time. To thrive, we need to keep cultivating new relationships. That idea struck me deeply.
Now that I’ve stepped away from full-time work, I’m realizing how precious my current friendships are and how important it is to consciously nurture them. I’m also realizing that building new ones isn’t optional—it’s part of creating the life I want in my 50s and beyond.
Small Shifts, Big Impact
Building social wealth doesn’t mean creating a huge circle of friends overnight. It means being intentional, leaning in, and making space for connection in everyday life. Here are a few shifts I’m working on that may also be helpful tips to you:
- Nurture what I already have. I’m reaching out to friends and family more regularly, even in small ways. A short message, a photo, or a quick call keeps those bonds alive. I’ve been trying to do this more with my cousin and old friends.
- Lean in instead of pulling back. When people make an effort to connect—whether they’re my husband’s friends, colleagues, or new acquaintances—I’m learning to assume they mean it. I give them the benefit of the doubt instead of protecting myself by staying distant.
- Make new friends in midlife. I’m joining new networks, both virtual and local, and making an effort to say yes to new connections and friendships. It feels different from my younger years, but it’s exciting to open myself up to people who may become important in my life ahead.
- Create rituals of connection. I’m working on scheduling regular touchpoints with people I value—like a monthly walk, a standing coffee, or a simple weekly text. Consistency matters more than intensity.
- Express appreciation openly. I try not to just assume people know I care. I’m making more of an effort to say it, show it, and celebrate it. Gratitude strengthens relationships on both sides.
Social wealth takes effort, but it gives back tenfold. The older I get, the more I realize that friends and family are what make life not just bearable, but joyful.
So let me leave you with this:
Who are the people in your life that you most want to grow closer to this year? And what’s one small step you can take this week to show them they matter?
Because at the end of the day, social wealth isn’t measured in numbers. It’s measured in moments—moments of laughter, support, and love that remind us we’re not alone.
Lei