Every year, thousands of students and young professionals leave their hometowns in pursuit of better education and career opportunities in cities like Hyderabad. While the move often promises independence and personal growth, it also brings the emotional toll of distance — separation from family, familiarity, and lifelong support systems.
In the absence of traditional family structures, many young people begin to form what sociologists call 'chosen families' — a circle of friends who become their emotional anchors.
For 19-year-old Thanuja, a student at ICFAI University who moved from Anantapur to Hyderabad after the lockdown, the transition started with excitement but gradually gave way to homesickness.
“At first it felt adventurous,” she says, “But later, I missed the closeness of my family. Then I found friends who would sit with me at 2 am, listen without judging, and make me feel strong. They became my people.”
She fondly recalls birthdays and late-night conversations that stitched together a sense of belonging. “Even when we’re far from home, we find home in each other,” she adds.
Keethika, another student, shares a similar yet distinct experience — hers marked by a cultural shift. Having grown up in North India despite her South Indian roots, moving to Hyderabad felt like a cultural awakening.
“There’s a huge difference between North and South India — not just in food and language, but in how people relate to each other,” she says, adding, “I did face some discrimination. But over time, I found friends who made me feel like I belonged. My roommate and two other friends became my family. We care for each other the way our parents would.”
The concept of chosen families isn’t new, but it is gaining renewed relevance in Indian metro cities. Sociologists consider this part of a broader social shift. Dr Anindita Chakrabarty, Assistant Professor of Sociology at Mahindra University, explains, “Traditionally, family was seen as a political and economic institution rooted in inheritance and lineage. But now, companionship and emotional support are taking precedence, especially in high-pressure urban environments.”
This phenomenon isn’t limited to students. Shivansh, a professional working with Salesforce in Hyderabad, has lived away from his family in Mumbai for six years. His emotional transition began during college.
“The first two weeks away from home were tough. But once college life picked up, I formed a close-knit group of eight friends,” he recalls. “During the hard times, they were the ones who stayed up listening to me cry. That’s when I realised — this is my family now,” he says.
He also remembers how crucial these friendships became during moments of illness. “At home, my mom was always there. In college, I had to fend for myself. Getting sick meant no one was there — unless my friends stepped in,” he adds.
Dr Chakrabarty adds that while chosen families can be deeply nurturing, they’re not entirely free from the influence of societal structures like caste, gender, and class. “You’re more likely to bond with people who share your cultural background. If you’ve grown up with casteist or patriarchal conditioning, you may unintentionally exclude others from marginalised communities. Even in our chosen bonds, we often recreate familiar comfort zones,” she says.
Yet, diversity can also be a transformative force. Reflecting on her own journey, Dr. Chakrabarty shares, “I came from a conservative Bengali upbringing, but during hostel life, I became close to peers from marginalised communities. Living together helped us explore each other’s life worlds. It wasn’t always easy — but it changed me.”
In cities like Hyderabad, where youth make up a large part of the population, urban loneliness is a growing concern. Chosen families, then, aren’t just emotional luxuries—they’re survival mechanisms.
“These peer networks help in everyday life,” says Shivansh, adding, “Even though we no longer live in the same hostel, we still meet on weekends. The bond has changed, but the trust remains. We’re just a call away.”
For many, chosen families offer something traditional families sometimes can’t: emotional support without judgment. “With my parents, I share almost everything,” says Keethika, adding, “But with my chosen family, I can share everything — without fear of being misunderstood. Some of it comes with being the same age, of course.”
This International Day of Families (May 15), perhaps it’s time to expand our understanding of what 'family' means. Whether it’s midnight rants over Maggi, last-minute birthday surprises, or silent support after a long day, chosen families have become the quiet glue holding young urban lives together.