Friendship
I didn’t get friendship as a child. Wasn’t sure how to talk to other kids. Didn’t know how to join in. Sort of hung by myself, sometimes with one other child, often my cousin, sometimes a younger sister. Played a lot of pretend. Waited to grow up because I was certain that it would be easier to be friends with grown ups.
Although things were easier in high school, friendships still felt like playing pretend. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was doing — I just hoped that if I were doing something right I would keep on doing it. Then I hit a grace period — a beautiful long one — when suddenly, the whole mystery of friendship opened up. Just be! Sort of college (in visits to friends at their universities) but mostly England and Cairo, when friends were like raindrops and we all leapt around together. There were the normal sort of friendship shenanigans — too close, not close enough, right moment, wrong. Flirting or friending, inconsiderations and apologies. Yet somehow it felt like I had learned the dance and was managing to minuet and that now, I would always have dance partners enough. That friends, old and new, were something I could trust in.
Then parenthood struck and somehow, I have never figured out how to be a parent and a friend. I can be friendly, sure. But friendships are eluding me and I don’t know why. I feel now like the child that was, not knowing how to join in, hanging by myself. I wonder if it’s part of being older or if it really is part of being a parent or if those two things just coincided for me. I think that being a parent means that so much of your patience and lovingkindness flows in one direction (towards the children) that it might be harder to send enough towards others, especially if they too are having to split their flow. But being a parent can be so lonely. Is often so lonely. So filled with Must Do and Have To and the clinging, loving hands of little children. Friends help you keep standing. Keep you from stomping on the little fingers because your friends are helping you remember that it’s all just another bit of the dance. Why, then, is it so much harder now?
I don’t know, honestly.
I totally relate with being younger and not understanding the “friend” thing. I never understood what to do and how to keep friends . . . and then it was complicated by being gay. My girl friends sometimes wanted to date and the boy friends I had crushes on . . .well, I couldn’t say anything. It was all so complicated! I wouldn’t go back to that time for anything.
Anyways, as for parenting. I’m not a parent, so I’m not sure. I do know that when I got older the relationship between my mom and I changed from parent/child to friends. I mean, we were always close but there’s a point at which it changed and we can talk about anything
Parenting young children isolates you in a way that nothing else does. You are totally fulfilled in some areas, and bereft in others. Your priorities are your children. They need you; you need them. Perhaps you feel guilty entering a friendship in which you fear you cannot give and receive equally and that keeps you from making those connections? You don’t want to disappoint, or refuse to play by the rules of friendship – whatever those may be.
Do you have a few relationships that you’ve held at bay? Perhaps you could explore those first. Someone out there is willing to give and take at your comfort level. I found my best friend several years ago – and she was someone I’d known for 10 years! Both of us were wary of making friendships we could not maintain – we found our match in each other, once we gave it a chance. I can’t imagine life without her now. We’re both busy, and I only see her 2-3 times a month, but I know she’s there.
Once again, I find that we are more similar than not. I, too, was a loner child. Some of us are best when surrounded by a tight-knit (no pun intended) group of friends. Some of us need the companionship of many, many friends. And some of us like to dwell with one wonderful companion.
The truth is: the minuet of friendship (note: I am adopting this expression)is far more intangible than ‘hanging out’ or talking on the phone or discussing politics.
Here is a fact: I am your friend. No, we’ve never met. No. We’ve never gotten into that first disagreement and figured out how to forgive one another. No, we haven’t even spoke. However, the nuances of friendship are much more than these things.
And if folks don’t understand that your precious babes come first, then perhaps, they don’t understand the kind of friend you need.
I was at my favorite coffee shop today, meeting with a friend of mine (who also has no children), and all around us were mothers and fathers with small children. There were babies everywhere, crawling and crying and chattering. My friend wondered aloud whether the children were understanding each other, in some way speaking to each other and connecting with each other on some wavelength that we adults could not comprehend. Meanwhile, all the parents were sitting, talking with one another, and it occurred to me that it was they who were chattering on, talking in ways I couldn’t really understand.
As a 30-something woman who has birthed no children, I have found it very challenging to maintain friendships (in their current incarnations) when my friends have children. They are changed drastically by their experiences, and this leaves me sometimes feeling like they have changed into different people, or sometimes, into a different species altogether. With many of them I manage to develop new ways of relating, but it is sometimes lonely. I love my friends, and I love their children, and I love being with them all, but sometimes it feels like I am stumbling with some foreign tongue that they are all speaking fluently.
Perhaps this is why so many parents make new friends when they have babies–they make friends with other people who are new parents–because they all speak the language.
Nevertheless, I keep knitting baby socks.
I have been lucky in my life with a few good friends. The friends I have now are ones that have been in my life for a long long time. Most of them have been friends for at least 10 years.
When I had Aidan my friendships changed. It became exceedingly difficult to talk about who was hot, who was getting laid and who wasn’t, what was in style, and other such friviolties (is that a word?). I enjoyed the break from life as a mother when engaging in these conversations, but there suddenly felt like a big gap. Like a whole part of me that I wanted to share and relate about, but no one was there to really understand.
My friends tried, but they weren’t mothers. They were then in their early 20’s and still in the process of figuring out careers, and boyfriends and stuff.
So although I am lucky to have the comfort of old friends that I can truly be myself with, I too sometimes don’t know how to be a parent and a friend and in that I find parenting lonley too.
Especially it is difficult trying to be a friend and parent at the same time. When friends come to visit I find I am often not nearly as patient with my children because I have a hard time meshing the two worlds and the friction of that anxiety creates tension.
So, I could go on and on but I have already written a novel so I’ll can it.
Bottom line is that, yet again I feel like we sit on the same page. I can totally relate.
I sympathize. I did have friends throughout childhood, but always felt like the person I wanted to be my “best” friend was already someone else’s best friend. I had a great gang of friends in high school, so I was very blessed. My husband and I became parents at 19 so immediately we found ourselves with absolutely no peer group at all. It wasn’t until we were on child #3 (out of 4) that some of our friends began having children. These were completely new friends…I only remain in contact with one friend from high school and she is absolutely dear to me. It will come. I didn’t notice how old your children are. Maybe it will improve when they are in school…you tend to see the same people at things. Having friends is so important. My husband is a pastor and we move around quite a bit. I have a lot of friends that I may not see very often…maybe not even once a year. But they are so special to me and the time apart doesn’t interfere with our friendship. But it’s hard. We have been in our current appointment for nearly four years, but some days I still feel incredibly lonely. People can be just lovely (and sometimes not!), but I still feel like the outsider and I know my time in any location is limited. In our system our Bishop sends a pastor where they’re needed…there isn’t a hiring and firing systerm…so it’s very much out of our control. I mourn for the long-lasting friendships my kids will never have…they won’t graduate high school with someone they went to first grade with. My daughter (who is 12) has found it remarkable that I call someone I “meet” through a blog a friend, but I do. It’s a way to connect with other people. And really, that’s what a friend is. Someone you connect with. Keep trying! Sorry, I’m rambling!
Your friend, robyn
P.S. I love your sense of humor. That will help you get through a lot! Keep your chin up (my dad’s favorite saying).
Parenthood is distracting. When I invite someone over I get distracted by a child and forget to push the button that turns that kettle on after I plug it in. By the time I have pushed the button in the tea is not ready before my company has to leave. When I go out with someone, without children in tow, I am distracted by this vague feeling much like when you think you have forgotten or lost something important. I feel empty handed without a child beside me. I don’t seem friendly when I am distracted.
I’m sure it’s different for parents, but even as a non-parent, I’ve found it increasingly difficult to make meaningful friendships the older I get, and to keep up the ones I had. We just don’t have the same time we once did, for one thing. You need a lot of time to do and talk about nothing in particular to make a friend out of a new acquaintance.
We’re still here, just a bit tired.