Anyways, it started me thinking. I’m a female who needs other females. But I’ve found myself in a time of life when my access to the energizing power of other women seems to be waning. I didn’t assume this would be the case when I was younger. When I had Morgen, I’d read a lot about the isolation that can occur when women decide to become full-time moms, an isolation that can be a real risk, especially for women who leave full-time work (and all their childless friends and co-workers) behind. But, for me, I entered into that time of my life actively determined not to be lonely. Either through church or the community or even my own little condominium community that offered opportunities to make real friends: play groups, book clubs, loosely organized “let’s meet at the park” days once a month. I took advantage of those opportunities in my twenties and made some of the best friends I’ve ever had during those years. I even found myself accidentally making friends: when your kids are little, you go where they go, and the moms of all the other little kids go there too. You wind up spending three hours on a Wednesday afternoon sitting in the driveway with your next door neighbor while the boys whack each other with light sabers on the lawn. And suddenly you know more than you ever thought you would about your neighbor’s first marriage and terrible mother-in-law and, BOOM, just like that. You’re friends.
But now I don’t spend very much time sitting in the driveway (although I do spend a ton of time driving up and down the driveway in my car, shuttling kids to games and practices and scouts and friends’ houses). I also don’t have a lot of time (or desire?) for the book clubs or card groups or Relief Society Enrichment meetings that I couldn't wait to run to when my kids were little. Back then, nothing felt better than handing Ben the baby - making sure I'd changed the stinky diaper and disappearing out the door at 7:00 p.m., knowing that the boys wouldn't be tucked into bed by the time I returned at 9:00 but okay with that anyways. But now? Now the hours between 7:00 and 10:00 are the craziest of all, with homework and kids’ sports and chores filling over into the time when all I want to do is put my head on my pillow and sleep. And during the day? Many of the moms from the cul-de-sac have returned to work, part-time or full. And it’s hard to find excuses to get together with those who haven’t. When kids were little, the kids were the reason: let’s take them to the zoo! Want to go with me to the park? But now, there’s not much to do with other stay-at-home moms of school-age kids besides go to lunch, which is fun (don’t get me wrong, I LOVE a good lunch date), but is either too expensive or feels too self-indulgent to do on a regular basis.
And then there’s me. I’m tired. When I moved to this neighborhood, in my mid-twenties, I started two different book clubs, one in my ward and one with friends. I printed out invitations. I made schedules. I read the assigned novel for both clubs every single month. But now the thought of starting a book club doesn’t feel like an opportunity or an escape, but an obligation I’m not sure I could follow through on. I’ve lived in my current home for over fifteen years and I know my next-door neighbor’s first name (Mindy), but the women inhabiting the three houses in the circle and the one on the right? I know they told me their names when they moved in, but I’ve since forgotten, and too much time has passed for me to ask again without outing myself as the half-a$&ed neighbor I’ve become.
I don’t want to make it sound like I don’t have any friends here. I’ve met some wonderful women, mostly through church, and I like the rare opportunities we have to get together and connect. In fact, I’ve often wondered how other stay-at-home moms of school-age kids without a church community make lasting friendships at all. It would be so easy to hide inside your house and never come out. Nobody would be the wiser. I also don’t know what I’d do without my girl night-friends: my soul sisters, the hockey moms, my old friends from high school and my young motherhood years. These relationships keep me from feeling more isolated than I already do, and I’m grateful.
But, wow — it’s frighteningly easy to find yourself without a support system of other women as a 39 year old mom of kids. If you find yourself without the little kids necessary to head to swimming lessons on a Tuesday afternoon and sit on the bench with the other moms and chat - Hours, days, weeks can go by, without a meaningful conversation with another adult.
I read a study today that talked about men needing friends and the studies that have been conducted about their behaviors when they don't, but only the study I read here talked about the impact friendships have on women. It actually increases oxytocin in our system and in turn increases our nurturing/loving responses. Most women, in fact, don’t need scientific studies to validate what we know to be true deep in our bones: women need other women. Without them, we’re not as confident, healthy, happy, or successful as we would otherwise be.
In fact, no matter your sex, age or your time in life, the challenges of cultivating and maintaining friendship is real. What do you think?
