I think God was being funny when he decided human beings could be strangers to each other.
We’re hard-wired to connect, yet each of us was born into our own, intricate world with years & stories & decisions & micro-complexities compiling without an off switch. My mom, a quarterly phone-call friend, and the man I passed that one time on the street in Portland, OR. We’re all living life so closely alongside each other, yet in our own, separate worlds.
To get to know & love people as they are is my favorite gift to receive in this world. So, the idea of every person I interact with being these compilations of years, stories, decisions, & micro-complexities makes me smile.
I smile for all of the moments I’ve had with strangers…
I smile for the stranger that I met on Bumble BFF back in 2024. I agreed to a snowy hike in the middle of nowhere with him for our first meetup. There was no reception. He was a random man. In hindsight, that might’ve been classified in the Dumb Idea Department (the D.I.D., if you will). He could’ve been a D-lister, ax murderer & still gotten me. And listen, I would’ve put up a good fight, don’t get me wrong, but being 3 miles deep in the boonies with no witnesses except my four, Life360 fans tracking me from 11 hours away comes with its downfalls.
But.
It’s 2026 & I’m alive enough now to tell you that he wasn’t a murder. In fact, I think he’d lose sleep if he even stepped on an ant. So, who once was a stranger became a good friend of mine. And I’ll never turn down a hike with him.
I smile for the stranger that walks up & down my street asking people for food & money. I have the same interaction with him every time.
I say, “hi so & so,”
He says, “do you have anything for me?”
I say “yes” some days & “no” others.
Today, he caught me when I was taking out the garbage, so I told him he could have a piece of my trash if anything looked good. We laughed. He still won’t remember my name next time. He’ll always make me smile, but I’ll always be a stranger to him.
I smile for the stranger who I sat next to on a plane ride from Aspen to LA back in 2021. He ate his chocolate covered macadamia nuts, pulling his Covid mask down for each one.
*sidenote: unexpected, baller, & boujee snack choice on his part. Major kudos.
I stared out the window dramatically, wrapped up in my 20 year-old, world-ending thoughts. We exchanged ‘hellos’. Those ‘hellos’ turned into ‘where are you froms’. Those ‘where are you froms’ turned into a couple strangers in low places (cue the Brooks Jefferson song), airing out their dirty laundry for two hours straight, crying & snotting into their masks. I had never cried in front of a stranger before. I’ll probably never see him again. And maybe that was part of the appeal in opening up… But I’ll always remember that it felt right to share myself with him in that moment. Judgement-free. Humble. Tied to nothing & no one. Safe. My shoulders relax when I remember that there are strangers like him out there.
I smile for the stranger who forced his way onto my solo walks during school. All I ever wanted was my 30 minutes of alone time during those 8-hour days. Yet he wiggled his way into my pensive, hot girl walk without hesitation or space for me to question. And then he did it again the next day.
We ended up walking together every day for the rest of that school year. Those walks turned into an inseparable, 3-year, pick-up-the-phone-at-any-hour-of-the-day friendship — us falling in love — then going back to strangers once again. I always loved the one line from that Celeste song…
“From strangers to friends, friends into lovers, then strangers again.”
I smile for the stranger who my mom called from the hospital to tell me about back in ‘04.
“You have a little sister!” she said.
And with all of the selfish, little love I had in my 3 year-old heart, I shot back, “I wanted a brother. Send her back.”
Brutal…
22 years later & I have a built-in best friend who can see me napping & know that a weighted blanket on top of me would help ease the pain, who never passes up an opportunity to let me know the good she sees in me, & who will listen to my teariest, messiest words fall out with grace & love any day of the week.
I smile for the stranger who was my Uber driver a few weeks back. He pulled up. I checked to make sure his license plate & car matched his Uber profile. They didn’t. I still got in the car. As we made our way towards the airport, I started thinking to myself that that wasn’t a very smart-young-woman thing of me to do. I smiled at him in the rear-view mirror. He put his hood up & was short with my questions. I let myself have one more, “oh my god, my mom was right. I do make stupid decisions. Why don’t you think before you do, Delaney?!” thought. Then I remembered who I was & fired off some questions, so even if he was adult-napping me, we could at least get to know each other a little. Then suddenly, there we were having a rather refreshing conversation. It was broken English & a bit of translating. But talking to him made me feel light. Mom’s right, I still make stupid decisions, but I’m glad my stupid decision led me to a happy car ride with a kind-hearted stranger.
I smile for the stranger who I sat across the table from in my interview at Guidesly. He was strong & dominant, yet warm, wise, & talked to me like we were equals. It’s been almost two years & he’s still my boss — just now also the greatest mentor I’ve ever had. He feels like family some days.
Don’t tell him I said that.
I smile for the strangers who felt inclined to let a 19 year-old into their house to play mom all year for their three, beautiful kids back in 2020. From a 30-minute Zoom call to calling each other family, I can’t believe there was ever a time where we were strangers.
Strangers are strange. Because everyone’s a stranger at first, yet we all find a way to make a stranger less of a stranger to us. I love that part of life & people — that we all have to take the time to get to know & let ourselves be known by each other. I’ve always liked strange things. Guess it checks out that I like the idea of strangers too.