I was chatting with an old friend from childhood recently. We were catching up, as we do every few years. Her name is Sarah, and she’s a single mom living in a bustling city. She has a fulfilling job and one daughter. Meanwhile, I reside in a quiet rural area, married with three kids. Clearly, our lives have taken us in different directions.
During our conversation, we touched on how often we get to socialize without our children. I confessed to her that I hardly do at all. With two jobs, my free time is devoted to my kids. Sarah, on the other hand, makes it a point to go out with friends to bars or concerts as often as she can. “I have a great life,” she said. “I earn well, and I have a wonderful babysitter. I try to maintain a balance to keep my sanity.”
Reading her message struck me with a wave of inadequacy. It had been months—maybe even a year—since I last went out with friends. Though we’re both in our mid-30s and I have friends, they seem to slip down my list of priorities, and I began to question whether they should be higher. Should I be spending more time with my friends instead of my family?
This isn’t to say either of us is in the wrong. From what I can see, Sarah is a fantastic parent. But I couldn’t fathom how she juggles her daughter’s activities, manages a household, works a demanding job, and still maintains an active social life. The more I pondered how to carve out time for my friendships and what that would mean for my family, the more I realized I didn’t feel like I was missing out.
Around that time, I stumbled upon an article by Lisa Harper titled, “I Value My Friendships, But I Prefer Family Time Above All Else.” She articulated a similar sentiment, explaining how she often chooses family over brunch dates or girls’ trips because she has a fleeting period where her children will prioritize her.
To someone who truly treasures socializing, that might feel suffocating. But for me, as a father putting in over 50 hours a week, it resonates deeply. I often leave before my kids are awake and return home after they’ve gone to bed. I frequently find myself at conferences or meetings in far-off cities, where my only interactions with my family for days consist of sketchy phone calls and pixelated video chats.
Whenever I travel for work, I relish the uninterrupted sleep, but I quickly realize that I miss my family terribly. I yearn for their cuddles, the warmth of their small hands, and the sweet kisses from my wife. I also feel a sense of duty to be there for her. Hearing her talk about the challenges of managing three young children is tough because I know how demanding our kids can be, and I want to help. I genuinely enjoy being a father and husband, embracing all the responsibilities that come with it—even the challenging moments.
Much of this revolves around the fact that, as a working parent, I spend significant time away from my family to support them. Thus, when I finally return home, I want to do more than just provide financially.
This isn’t to say my kids are never frustrating. There are days I come home to find my kids in chaos and my wife overwhelmed, and I sometimes think longingly about the peace of my workplace. Yet while at work, I find myself smiling, thinking of my kids, eagerly awaiting the moments I can watch them play soccer or practice gymnastics. I am driven by a desire to help them become remarkable individuals.
My bond with my wife has matured over time, transforming from romantic love into a powerful partnership. While we still share romantic moments, we’ve learned to function seamlessly as a team. I understand her, and she understands me. Together, we’re prepared to tackle any mess that comes our way. I cherish her company more than that of anyone else, and I feel a profound sense of peace when we’re together.
Just last week, we had a family movie night watching Trolls. Everyone except my too-cool tween son joined in for a dance party in the living room. My youngest twirled her pigtails, my middle daughter showcased her impressive ballet moves, and my wife and I playfully bumped hips while my son looked on with a bemused grin. That moment was more joyous than any concert or party I’ve ever attended.
Honestly, letting go of that is a hard thing to consider. Moreover, it’s challenging to be away so much and then feel the need to socialize more when all I genuinely want is to spend time with my family. I don’t view this as boring or uncool. Instead, I believe it reflects how much I’m enjoying this stage of my children’s lives, knowing it will pass sooner than I wish.
As Lisa aptly put it, “I’m sorry if I miss some events. I will likely miss many things. I have a limited time to choose these little ones because soon they won’t choose me.” I feel the same way.
Conclusion
In conclusion, while friendships are important, the moments spent with family hold a unique and irreplaceable value that I cherish now more than ever.