At PLAN, we pay attention to patterns—especially the quiet ones.
Lately, many of us have noticed a shift in the long-standing personal support networks we help build and sustain. Some of the most committed members—the friends, neighbours, and extended community who’ve been showing up for years in someone’s circle of support—are moving away. They’re leaving not because they want to, but because they have to. Vancouver’s housing market continues to squeeze people out, especially those with modest incomes, caregiving responsibilities, or changing life circumstances.
We’ve seen network members move to smaller towns, across the province, or even out of B.C. entirely. These departures are felt deeply. Long-term relationships bring trust, history, and a sense of ease that can’t be rushed. When someone moves away, it can feel like a loss—not just for the person at the centre of the network, but for everyone who has come to rely on that familiar presence.
But something else is becoming clear too.
The city is still full. It’s full of people with capacity, warmth, and something to give. People who are newly retired, newly arrived, or newly ready to be part of something meaningful. There are students, artists, neighbours, professionals, and peers who care deeply about inclusion and belonging—but who may never have been asked to step into someone’s circle of support.
That’s where our work continues.
As mentors and community connectors, we have the opportunity to hold both the grief of change and the excitement of renewal. A personal support network isn’t static—it breathes. People step in and out. They change roles. They move away. They return. And sometimes, someone entirely new becomes a lifelong friend and trusted supporter.
This isn’t about replacing people. It’s about making room.
When someone leaves a personal support network, it’s not the end of something—it’s the beginning of an invitation. It’s a moment to ask: Who’s nearby? Who’s curious? Who might find meaning in being part of someone’s life in a deeper way?
The pandemic taught us something valuable about these questions. When we were forced to move relationships online, we discovered that networks could stretch in ways we hadn’t imagined. People who had moved away could still join planning sessions via Zoom. Long-distance friends could participate in celebrations and check-ins across time zones. While proximity still matters deeply, we learned that presence can take many forms—and that sometimes the person who becomes most central to a network might not live around the corner at all.
We’re not losing networks. We’re evolving them.
And in doing so, we’re reminded of something essential: a personal support network is not a fixed list of names. It’s a living, changing, ever-expanding web of relationships that can stretch and adapt when rooted in love, purpose, and mutual care.
Change has shown us what it means to build truly resilient community. While we can’t control who stays and who goes, we can control how we respond to change. We can choose to see departures as openings rather than closures. We can recognize that a network’s strength lies not in its permanence, but in its capacity to welcome, adapt, and grow.
If you’re a mentor or connector reading this, consider it a reminder—and encouragement—to explore new possibilities together. The city may be expensive, but it’s also full of possibility. Let’s keep our eyes open and our circles open too.
The work of building inclusive communities has never been more vital. When life circumstances scatter the networks we’ve carefully built, we have a choice: we can mourn what’s lost, or we can make room for what’s possible. At PLAN, we’re choosing both—honouring the relationships that have moved beyond our geography while actively creating space for new connections to flourish.
Because at the end of the day, networks aren’t about the people who used to be there. **They’re about the people who are here now, and the ones who are waiting to be welcomed in.**
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Have you noticed similar patterns in your community? We’d love to hear your stories about how networks evolve and adapt. What unexpected connections have emerged in your circles? Share your thoughts with us—your experiences might spark new possibilities for others.