2020 was going to be the year. The year I finally found my mom squad. My village. I’m talking about those friends that live in your local area, have kids similar in age to yours, and are going through those tough phases right alongside you. The ones that you can call on in a pinch – whether it’s to watch your kids in an emergency or to borrow some milk when you realize halfway through a recipe that you’re all out. The ones that know what it’s like in the trenches and won’t judge your tired eyes and dry-shampoo laden hair.
I didn’t exactly have a plan. I just realized that motherhood has felt more lonely than it probably should – especially lately – and if I wanted to change that, I needed to be deliberate about it. Enter COVID, stage left. Suffice it to say, it’s put more than just a few plans on hold. Like everyone else, priorities have shifted, day-to-day life looks different, and we’re all trying to navigate this “new normal” in the ways that are best for our respective families.
Don’t get me wrong, I have plenty of friends that are moms – some more casual acquaintances and some that I am very close to. I treasure these friendships. But the moms that I’ve known forever – the ones that knew “the old me” before kids – aren’t nearby. They’re in New York City, northern CT, MA, and abroad. I can’t call on them to pick up my kids at preschool if I’m stuck at work. They can’t drop by for a glass of wine on the porch after the kids are in bed. Those things that seem like little things until you realize how lonely the motherhood experience is without them. I’m a private person to begin with, and it takes a lot for me to put myself out there. How does a mom like me find her village – the local kind?
What I’ve realized is it starts with me. I have to put myself out there and invite people in without fear of judgment or rejection. I have a subconscious tendency to make excuses and let the daily chaos of life with small kids get in the way. One day it’s that I’m too busy with work; the next day, our house is a giant mess from my kids’ latest fort/Magnatile/play-dough creation.
So I put off putting myself out there until… Until my house is clean; until the kids’ bedtime routine takes less time; until my husband is working fewer hours; until the kitchen remodel is complete. Until, until, until. Excuses. True friends don’t care if my house is a mess or if my 4-year-old still can’t fall asleep alone. Life with little kids is messy for all of us, no matter how perfect it may seem from the outside. With every phase comes some new form of chaos, some of us just hide it better than others.
One life lesson that’s been reinforced for me over and over again through the mess that has been 2020 is that tomorrow isn’t guaranteed. You don’t know what’s going to happen. And if I don’t stop waiting “until…” the only one missing out on finding more joy and genuine friendship in motherhood is me.
So here’s to putting myself out there, to finding more of my people, and hoping they can see my smile beneath my mask.
