Dear Annie: I’m a 64-year-old woman who thought making new friends at my age would be simple: find someone kind, show up, bring snacks, repeat.

A few months ago, I met “Jill” at a community class. We clicked right away. She’s funny in that dry, smart way that makes you feel like you’re in on the joke. After class we started lingering in the parking lot, then grabbing coffee, then texting little updates like teenagers. She even came over one night when my pipes froze and stood in my kitchen holding a flashlight while I tried to pretend I knew what I was doing. I left that night thinking, “Finally. A real friend.”

Here’s the hitch: Her political beliefs are completely opposite of mine. I didn’t even know at first because we mostly talked about family, books and life. But lately, it’s come up more, and when it does, it’s like the air changes in the room. She’ll make comments I strongly disagree with, and I find myself either going quiet or trying to steer us back to safer topics.

The problem is, I like her. I don’t want to lose this friendship. But I also don’t want to feel tense every time a headline pops up, or like I’m swallowing my values to keep the peace. I’m not looking for a debate club, but I’m also not looking for a friend I have to tiptoe around.

Do I set a boundary and ask for “no politics,” even if that feels artificial? Do I try to have an honest conversation and risk blowing it up? Or do I accept that this is the cost of friendship in a divided world and just keep changing the subject? — New Friend, New Fault Line

Dear New Friend: You’re not imagining it. When politics enters the room, it can feel like someone quietly turned the thermostat from “cozy” to “arctic.”

But let’s name what’s also true. You found something rare: a real connection with a friend who shows up with a flashlight when the pipes freeze, not a lecture when life gets messy. That matters. Now, about the political divide. A friendship doesn’t require identical opinions, but it does require mutual respect. The question isn’t, “Can we disagree?” It’s, “Can we disagree without trying to convert, insult or score points?”

Start with a simple, grown-up boundary that doesn’t sound like a courtroom speech: “Jill, I really value you, and I want this friendship to last. But I’ve noticed politics gets tense for me. Can we agree to keep it light or avoid it, unless we both want a real conversation and can keep it respectful?”

That gives her a chance to meet you where you are. If she says, “Of course,” and follows through, you’ve protected something good without swallowing your values.

If she can’t resist the jabs, the bait, the smug little “Well, people like you …” comments, then the issue isn’t politics. It’s manners. And you don’t need to keep company with someone who treats your conscience like a chew toy.

One more thing: “No politics” doesn’t have to be artificial. It can simply be a choice to build your friendship on what you share, not what the news cycle wants you to fight about.

Friendship is hard enough. You’re allowed to ask for peace at the table.

“Out of Bounds: Estrangement, Boundaries and the Search for Forgiveness” is out now! Annie Lane’s third anthology is for anyone who has lived with anger, estrangement or the deep ache of being wronged — because forgiveness isn’t for them. It’s for you. Visit http://www.creatorspublishing.com for more information. Follow Annie Lane on Instagram at @dearannieofficial. Send your questions for Annie Lane to dearannie@creators.com. COPYRIGHT 2026 CREATORS.COM