Creating a space that works for me.
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I have stopped worrying about my weaknesses
I don’t try to get motivated to exercise
I stopped trying to find friends
I don’t try to feel happier
I celebrate my failures
I don’t do anything I don’t want to
I am not enduring to the end
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Instead, I am working on my friendship skills. The kind of skills that Markus already has developed. And he is only eight. Every conversation I have, I am asking, is this with my friend or my foe? The happiest people I know have about 6 hours of social contact daily. So today I met my friend Nicole for breakfast. Nicole, the really great friend I have mentioned so many times before.
I can type that last sentence with authority because I’ve been lucky enough to call Nicole a friend for almost sixteen years now. I remember the day I met her. I’d just given birth to Morgen a year before, and our mutual friend, Laurie, invited Nicole and me and our kids for an outing at Sugarhouse Park. As the three of us sat on the grass talking (and talking, and ignoring our children who occasionally came hollering past . . . but isn’t that the point of “playdates”?), I admired Nicole's new baby, Chloe, smiling contentedly from her car seat. And I admired Nicole, too. Here was this smart, funny, interesting woman who liked to create and read and think, and she lived a mere four minutes away from me! I already felt extremely lucky to have Laurie in my life (two minutes away), and now Nicole, too?
Who knew such bounteous blessings existed in Holladay, Utah?
We soon formed a Bunko group: Nicole and Laurie and Heidi and Olivia, two other amazing women and mothers and friends, and little ol’ me. We were a bit tentative at first, as we got to know each other. But over the last sixteen and a half years, we’ve strengthened each other’s conversation skills and buoyed up each other’s souls. And Laurie and Heidi and Olivia and I have had the distinct pleasure of occupying front row seats while watching Nicole conceptualize and finally create her remarkable swimsuit company.
Growing away from friends happens now and then in the lives of women, but it still makes me sad and melancholy. Sometimes the growing apart is mutual, and sometimes it feels more like you’re getting dumped. Some friends can come and go and when you’re with them it’s like nothing has changed. This friendship is one of those. It feels relevant to my life and who I am now.
I can type that last sentence with authority because I’ve been lucky enough to call Nicole a friend for almost sixteen years now. I remember the day I met her. I’d just given birth to Morgen a year before, and our mutual friend, Laurie, invited Nicole and me and our kids for an outing at Sugarhouse Park. As the three of us sat on the grass talking (and talking, and ignoring our children who occasionally came hollering past . . . but isn’t that the point of “playdates”?), I admired Nicole's new baby, Chloe, smiling contentedly from her car seat. And I admired Nicole, too. Here was this smart, funny, interesting woman who liked to create and read and think, and she lived a mere four minutes away from me! I already felt extremely lucky to have Laurie in my life (two minutes away), and now Nicole, too?
Who knew such bounteous blessings existed in Holladay, Utah?
We soon formed a Bunko group: Nicole and Laurie and Heidi and Olivia, two other amazing women and mothers and friends, and little ol’ me. We were a bit tentative at first, as we got to know each other. But over the last sixteen and a half years, we’ve strengthened each other’s conversation skills and buoyed up each other’s souls. And Laurie and Heidi and Olivia and I have had the distinct pleasure of occupying front row seats while watching Nicole conceptualize and finally create her remarkable swimsuit company.
Growing away from friends happens now and then in the lives of women, but it still makes me sad and melancholy. Sometimes the growing apart is mutual, and sometimes it feels more like you’re getting dumped. Some friends can come and go and when you’re with them it’s like nothing has changed. This friendship is one of those. It feels relevant to my life and who I am now.
