I waited for the carriage to roll over and burst into flames, but the sound of a child brought me out of my trance, and showed me how important it is to look outwards in a crisis

The moment I knew I was about to die came a couple of years into my 20s, when life was really just starting out. My best friend, Helen, and I were on our way to Blackburn to catch up with an old university friend who had recently moved there for work. Thrilled to see each other, and basking in the prospect of the party weekend ahead, we chatted nonstop as we made our way by train from York.

We stashed our bags – full of essentials such as bottles of wine and my new pair of black clogs – above our heads and settled down in a cosy two-seater. About 50 minutes into our journey, I was dimly aware of a bang. Then came another, this time impossible to ignore. A woman screamed as our carriage was thrown up into the air in what felt like slow motion. Suddenly, Helen and I were somehow on our feet in the middle of the aisle, hugging each other. Head down, eyes screwed shut, I waited for the carriage to roll over and burst into flames, as I’d seen in films. I remember thinking about our families and friends getting the news. Then I heard the little girl crying.

The long-running series in which readers answer other readers’ questions. This week, the knotty issue of home boundaries, and what the saying was intended to mean

They say “good fences make good neighbours”, presumably meaning that the stronger the boundary between you and people you need to deal with, the more robust the relationship. Is this really true? Jamila, via email

Send new questions to nq@theguardian.com .

It is said to be harder to make friends as you age. But I found that a mix of apps and other tools, as well as a happy attitude, led to a world of potential new pals

Tonight, Rachel, Elvira and I will meet for dinner. A year ago, none of us knew the others existed. Six months ago Rachel and Elvira were strangers until I introduced them. But now, here we are, something as close to firm friends as is possible after such a short time.

If you’ve ever consumed any media, you would be forgiven for thinking that life after 35 is a burning wasteland of unimaginable horrors: the beginnings of incessant back pain, an interest in dishwasher loading, the discovery that you’re ineligible for entire industries billed as “a young person’s game”, and, apparently, an inability to make friends.

Whether it’s panicking about the mess, forgetting drinks orders or frantically asking if people are having fun, I’m no fun at parties. How do the bon vivants do it?

Being a bad friend is presumably like being a narcissist – wondering whether you are one probably means that you’re not. However, a writer for the US magazine People questioned this topic just this week, with an article asking if she was letting down her mates by refusing to host Friendsgiving. (For the unfamilar, this is Thanksgiving you spend with friends rather than family, and is increasingly popular in the UK .) She has a good reason though. “I simply don’t want people in my house.”

After mentioning “the foot traffic, the proximity to my stuff, the general vibes of it all”, she admitted, “there is a rhythm and reason to the way my fruit bowl is organised, how my coffee table books are placed and how my cushions lie on the sofa. I would hate to be half-cooking, half-monitoring my guests to make sure no one has their feet on my coffee table and everyone is using coasters. (I’ve seen those types of hosts, and they are the type guests talk about on their way back home!).”

Phone calls can be inconvenient, stressful or actively unpleasant – especially if you’re part of my generation. At 27, can I survive seven days without texts or group chats? And will I still have a social life at the end?

In the listless early weeks of January – my resolutions for self-improvement already gone to the dogs – I was asked to conduct an experiment that those in my life who are over 40 deemed “lovely”, and everyone else regarded with unbridled horror: I was asked to spend a week picking up the phone and calling people rather than texting.

What a cakewalk, you say. Not quite, say those aged 18 to 34 – 61% of whom prefer a text to a call, and 23% of whom never bother answering, according to a Uswitch survey last year. Such is the pervasiveness of phone call anxiety that a college in Nottingham recently launched coaching sessions for teenagers with “telephobia”, and a 2024 survey of 2,000 UK office workers found that more than 40% of them had avoided answering a work call in the previous 12 months because of anxiety.

Ditching hanging out for isolated scrolling on our sofas is a dangerous habit that warrants help on a par with gambling

Over the decades, research has chipped away at our most cherished ideas about human specialness: it turns out that we share such things as theory of mind, empathy, and time perception with many other creatures .

But there is one feature of humanity that we can claim to be uniquely our own. Animals – unless captured by humans or infected with zombie parasites – tend to act staunchly in their own interests. Why is it that this frog or that bat or this humming-bird behaves in the peculiar way it does? The answer is almost always the same: to further its survival and the propagation of its genes.

Maeve thinks Richard should chip in more as he’s home all day while she’s in the office. Richard says a 50/50 split is fairest. You decide which of them is on a power trip
Find out how to get a disagreement settled or become a juror

I’m in the office four days out of five, while Richard works at home and racks up the energy bills

Looking back through her post bag, Observer Magazine’s Philippa Perry answers her readers most commonly asked question: why are other people so awful?

From my many years as a therapist and advice columnist, I’ve started to see clear patterns in the problems that bother my readers the most. And I can confirm that Sartre was right: hell is other people. It’s difficult relationships with those around us that cause the most anguish. It’s such a common theme that I’ve given a lecture on the subject: Why are other people so awful? To help you into the new year, here’s my advice on this most commonly experienced problem.

Struggles in connecting to others – or, more specifically, the tension between wanting connection and feeling disconnected – can manifest in many ways. As well as difficulties in existing relationships , such struggles can also make you feel lonely or alienated .

Writers, therapists and academics give advice on how to make, and strengthen, meaningful bonds with mates and friends

Emma Reed Turrell , psychotherapist, author and host of the podcast Friendship Therapy

You can keep balance in friendship by showing your working out, rather than making assumptions and mind-reading. This might sound like: “I’d like to invite you to a party but I’m wondering if it might not be your thing and I want you to know that you can absolutely say no, or just come for an hour.” That way you get to express your wish and your friend gets to be honest in their choices, rather than people-please you or dodge the question. Look for the ‘both/and’ of a balanced friendship, rather than an ‘either/or’ situation, and negotiate how to both get what you need from your communication styles or time together, rather than create a one-way street in which one of you is always keeping the other happy. Not everyone wants a two-way street in friendship and you might find you get push-back if you seek to rebalance an existing relationship but a true friend will welcome your honesty and one that doesn’t might not have been a friend at all.