“I need some time for myself,” her text read. We met during our first year of college, and our nine-year friendship seemed to evaporate after the election results. For over five months, silence enveloped our connection, leaving me hurt that she thought ghosting me was an acceptable approach.
Maybe it was time to seek new friendships if those I once considered close truly didn’t care. This friend missed my wedding and baby shower, had never met my child, and made no effort even when I visited her city. It wasn’t until she cut off contact that I realized the imbalance in our friendship.
This year, I poured time into forging new connections with women who were either newcomers to my circle or mere acquaintances. I aimed for the kind of closeness you see in movies like Bridesmaids or Beaches. I straightened my hair for dinners when I would have preferred to catch up on reading or tackle the laundry. I spent money on jeans that fit well to look presentable instead of wearing my husband’s old sweats. I invited colleagues to lunch, braving the awkwardness of small talk with relative strangers. I even drove over 60 miles to meet a friend who rarely inquired about my well-being. Despite being consistently ignored by the mother of my son’s friend, I arranged playdates because I believe in second chances.
But looking back, I regret those choices. In the time spent waiting for my check at a restaurant, I could have engaged in something I genuinely enjoyed. The moments I tried to be overly social, thinking that was what was expected of me, could have been spent with true friends who understand my preference for meaningful conversation over casual chitchat. I kept reaching out to new mom acquaintances who acted as if they were too busy for me. I didn’t need to leave my son in tears as I rushed out to shop with someone who only texts me when she’s dealing with relationship drama. Yet I did it, believing it was my duty as a good friend. I take pride in being that reliable friend—the one you can lean on, trust, laugh with, and even cry in front of.
Certainly, those qualities define a solid friendship, but they can’t thrive if only one person is invested. Like any relationship, it requires effort from both sides. I’ve come to realize as a mom that I no longer want to be the one constantly reaching out, waiting for another person to show me the same level of investment I offer.
My college roommate might be an example of a one-sided friendship, prompting me to reflect on my role in other relationships as well. I no longer want to risk disappointing friends who genuinely put in effort. Instead, I’ve reconnected with high school friends—those who supported me through my awkward phases and didn’t flinch when my mom yelled at them. They remember that I’m still more than just a mom; I’m an individual with interests and quirks. These friends welcome me back into their homes every time I visit, offering support that many local friends fail to provide.
While meeting new people can be worthwhile, it often feels like dating after marriage—what’s the point when I’ve already found my compatible friends? With so few hours in a day and little time left to pamper myself after juggling kids and chores, why spend precious moments with those who are more likely to disappoint?
I’ve taken charge of my social life by distancing myself from those who never reach out, stepping away from negative influences, and reinvesting in friendships that are mutually beneficial. As a mom, the company I keep truly matters; time is scarce, and so am I. If someone drains my energy and leaves me feeling worse, it’s time to let them go.
You might think it would be easier to find fellow moms to bond with, considering some of my non-mom friends have faded into the background. True, it’s comforting to find someone who understands the chaos of an unscheduled infant or who won’t judge me for backing out last minute due to a “diaper emergency.” But it’s not worth the effort to hunt down friendships that don’t naturally fit. Instead, cherish those who know you well and want to grow alongside you, regardless of life stages. Nurture those connections, as their loyalty is a treasure even your partner will appreciate when you need something he can’t provide.
In conclusion, my year of reflection has taught me the importance of valuing genuine friendships. It’s about nurturing relationships that uplift and support us, while letting go of those that drain our energy. As we navigate the complexities of motherhood, connections that truly matter become even more essential.
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Summary: This year revealed the importance of nurturing mutual friendships and reassessing the dynamics of my connections. I learned to value those who invest in our relationship while letting go of those who do not. As a mom, choosing my social circle wisely has become crucial, allowing me to focus on friendships that uplift and support my journey.
Keyphrase: female friendships
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