I am a flighty friend. I never really intended for this to be my title or role in the grand scheme of adult friendships. It’s just become a part of reality. Before children, I was the ride-or-die friend who would show up on your doorstep ready to party, pray, or completely clean out your closet. (Different people, different coping mechanisms). I used to be the 100 percent-committed friend. The one you called during the chaos for help. However, I realized within the last year; I am no longer that person. I can no longer drop everything and run to the needs of my friends in the same way. In fact, I am not sure I really know how to be a good friend. It hit me just the other day that no one ever taught me the right way to make and keep friends as a child, much less as a grown woman with a career, side passions, and raising two small humans. I guess that is why I have very few close friends now. Who knew I would be sitting here in my mid-thirties trying to figure out how to make friends? Heck, trying to figure out if I even want to make new friends.
In my defense, I’ve been with my husband since I graduated from high school. We got married in our very early 20s and had children by our mid-twenties. My 20s were a whirlwind of learning to be a wife, navigating marriage, and then motherhood. I had very little time to commit to friendships in my 20s, but I was all in when I did. Now, my “all in” looks a little different. I am all in, but only if it is after working hours and I have a babysitter. I am all in, if it is after bedtime but only for a few hours… cause this mama has to sleep. Sometimes I am all in, but only if it is through FaceTime because I have a sleeping child in my arms. So, I admit to being the flighty friend. The one that will not RSVP to your child’s birthday party because I do not know how overstimulated my child will be or how my anxiety meter will move that day. In my heart, I really do love you.
I can truthfully say I have very few genuine friendships outside of the family. Those few friends love me despite my flightiness. They understand my lack of presence isn’t intentional, instead; it is for survival. These are the friends who will drop everything and show up at the ER when my child needs stitches. The ones who would take my children at the drop of a second if I needed to call them. The ones who may live across the country, but they mail me books, pray for me, and talk to me daily through video chat. The ones who were at my mother’s house the day she died before I even had the chance to call. The ones who love my children, not judge them for their differences. The ones who know I would be there in a split second if they really needed me. The ones who get that my anxiety makes me crash at 8 PM some nights, so I am really not ignoring their texts. I am just exhausted. The ones who understand the past year of my life has been nothing short of hell at times. While I am flighty, and I don’t commit to things as I used to—I am learning. I am working on becoming my best self. I am working on being better for those around me. And I am also forever grateful and indebted to my friends, who will always extend grace and love me, anyway.
So, if you are a mom in your mid-thirties looking for a semi-committed flighty friend who will pray for you every day but only see you once every three months on a “girls’ night” out—I am your girl.
Let’s be friends.