Letting go can be a challenging experience. At times, it can feel overwhelmingly painful—like saying a final farewell to a loved one or realizing your child has outgrown a cherished habit. Yet, some farewells whisper softly, sneaking up on you until one day you find yourself reminiscing about a friend, only to discover it has been months or even years since you last connected.
These are the subtle goodbyes currently marking my life.
I suspect it’s just the phase I’m in—the whirlwind of parenthood, where children’s activities, school events, family time, date nights, and the occasional moment to recharge take precedence over hanging out with friends. Our schedules are overflowing, our minds even more so, and it feels as if life is pulling us along rather than allowing us to choose how to spend our time. At least, that’s what I’m hoping.
I find myself drifting away from my female friends in a way that’s never happened before. What once were lively evenings out have transformed into sporadic lunches squeezed between work commitments and picking up kids. Those lunches have now dwindled down to text messages filled with wishes of “Let’s catch up soon!” which, over time, have become even less frequent—reduced to brief check-ins like, “Hey, just thinking of you!” I’m at a point where even sending a text feels like another task on a never-ending to-do list, a task that somehow gets postponed to tomorrow. I’m certain they are also on my mind just as often.
I won’t pretend this situation doesn’t sadden me; I’m grieving the loss of my friendships, these vital connections that once offered me an escape from the daily grind of parenting, homework battles, and family complexities. I miss those moments where I could unwind with women who understood me best, where laughter and shared experiences filled the air. I long for the comfort of sisterhood—sharing stories over too much dessert, celebrating small victories, and lamenting the relentless passage of time.
I know many of us go through this cycle, and while I’m not angry or feeling betrayed, I can’t help but feel a sense of loss. The love and desire for connection are still there; we all hope for moments to gather again over nachos or chocolate cake. When that time arrives, I’ll be ready in my comfiest pants, eager to embrace my friends with hugs, laughter, and all the love I’ve been holding onto, ready to dive into those sweet indulgences.
For now, I’ll reach out with a simple text to let them know they’re on my mind. Tomorrow.