friends

To the best friend who left

I’m writing letters this week: to people who will never read them, to my younger self, to you. Because we all have things we wish we could say to someone.

To the best friend who left:

My thirties have been a decade of letting go.

A resigned opening of clinched fists, realizing I can’t keep things together, can’t keep things from hurting, can’t keep things from going away.

Yet you accused me of trying to control things which couldn’t be farther from the truth. Telling the truth isn’t controlling people. Telling the truth is loss of control and acceptance and free falling.

It’s been one year since you texted me to tell me we were no longer friends. It’s been thirteen months since you stopped talking to me, and here’s what I finally figured out: It’s you, you who has to control. You who controls people by only telling parts of stories, only parts of the truth. You who control how other people think, what other people know, how other people see you.

You are the ultimate puppet master, stringing people along as you need them, using them, and then discarding them when they don’t follow your will or plan.

You texted me that awful night and said I was dangerous for you–toxic is what you said. But the truth is I’m only dangerous because I stopped believing your lies, started seeing the parts you didn’t want me to see.

(I’m sure in your head you convinced yourself that I was un-accepting or judging. You know that’s not true. Do we need to go back through the last few decades and list out all the things I wasn’t necessarily a fan of but kept loving you through anyway? Your rationalization skills are above average, I’ll give you that. We rarely agreed on things, but it didn’t stop us from finding value in each other.)

When people stop believing your lies, they are not worth keeping around. They are no longer useful to you, they don’t fit into your plan. I didn’t realize me getting healthy and recognizing red flags would end our friendship, but it did.

You saw it coming. You knew the jig was up and there was no where left to go. I had stopped believing your lies, your half-truths, your manipulated version of reality.

One day your husband will stop believing your lies. When he does, he will leave you.

One day, when your children are older and get the help they need to recover from being mothered by you, they will see your lies too. And they will leave you.

You could stop all of this but you won’t.

You can save yourself by telling the truth. The whole truth, every last part of it.

You are a coward who pretends to be free and uninhibited and living your best life, but if you were, you wouldn’t have to lie to everyone, control everything.

Mostly you lie to yourself.

When I realized that, it made letting you go easier. It seems almost comical now that I got upset with you for lying to me when you don’t tell yourself the truth. How in the world could you tell it to anyone else? Suddenly this whole thing has become sad instead of infuriating.

You talk bad about all your friends to your other friends to create division; it is easy to shape and manipulate stories when none of your people talk to the others because you make them all hate each other. For you, it is scary for your friends to be friends with each other because we all know different versions of you, different versions of your life, and it would all blow up in your face if we all realized it.

You saw that coming too.

I understood that pretty quickly when your little friend commented on my Instagram post last summer defending you for something that didn’t make sense, something that wasn’t the reason we weren’t getting along, or the reason you said we couldn’t be friends anymore.

It was the perfect example of how you tell everyone different stories.

I’m so glad I don’t have to listen to your stories anymore.

Last summer I had asked you to dinner, I missed seeing you and thought we could have chips and salsa and margaritas and hang out. My girls were with me, because Chris had been working second shift for a few months.

You came to dinner 45 minutes late, told me you couldn’t stay long because you had a last-minute concert you wanted to go to, and spent the majority of our short time together on your phone.

When we ordered, you said you were starving and all you’d had to eat that day was some veggie straws. I commented that didn’t sound very healthy and you should eat more food.

Shut the fuck up, you told me, barely looking up from your phone.

I glanced over at my daughters—my daughters who loved you, who always thought you were fun and kind—and they both looked away, confused and embarrassed.

The rest of the dinner went about the same. At one point, you told my girls to put earmuffs on, but for the most part, you spoke like they weren’t sitting at the same table with us, like they enjoyed hearing the f-word every sentence or two. It was a horrible dinner; thinking about it now and how I let my daughters sit through it makes my stomach hurt.

You ate half your meal and left. I felt relief when you were gone.

On the way home, Ellie asked what was wrong with you. I said I didn’t know. Maybe you were just having a bad day.

The truth is, I did know. I was beginning to understand some heavy things that weren’t worth sharing with my nine year old. They’re not worth sharing on the internet either.

But I hope you get help. I hope you get the professional help you need. I hope you stop running away and looking for quick fixes. I hope you stop finding new things to consume your time and energy, things to obsess over so you can avoid the actual hard, healing work you need to do. I hope you stop the cycle of chaos and calm you’re addicted to. Fixing it will involve mental health professionals, medication, and lots of therapy. Anything else you try to do instead of that will always lead back to the madness and violence simmering just below your surface.

A year ago, I was so, so sad. You knew me well enough to say all the right things to cause the most pain and heartache in a text message. Nice work. You were always good at that; that’s why it always felt so unsafe to tell you things, because there was no doubt it would later be used as a weapon.

But now? Now there is just relief. To be out of your tornado, to understand why there was so much drama, so many people always out to get you. I had no idea the vacuum you created until you left and things settled down. Like when you don’t hear the air conditioning running until it turns off and then you realize how quiet your house is.

Things are quiet and good now.

I didn’t realize how much noise and destruction you carried with you all the time. That must be exhausting. I am so sorry.

In sixth grade, we became friends as I wrote a fictional story in homeroom about you and the older boy you had a crush on. We’d stumble into the lab at 7:30 each morning, open my yellow binder, and read what I had dreamed up for the two of you the night before.

All these years later, I would not have written this ending for us. I would not have dreamed it this way, wanted it this way. We could have done this better for all the people we love who you hurt by just running away.

But that’s not your style. You chose to write harder, more damaging stories for your people. A story I no longer want to be a character in.

Take care.
-Mary

Welcome to the Front Room Studio

A few weeks ago I shared what I’m doing instead of teaching this year, now I want to show you where I’m at instead of the classroom.

Let me introduce you to the Front Room Studio:

Jessi and I have been friends since elementary school, she’s part of the First Thursday group, and we host the Not Terrible podcast together. Last spring when we started whispering about finding a workspace to share, it felt like such a scary, unrealistic dream. But we signed a lease in June and spent July getting it ready so we could be up and running when the kids went back to school.

We record our podcast here. I write and manage social media accounts at the desk with the little pink dog. Jessi manages local comedians from her desk. We have lots of joint projects in the works, but we also have our own things. This is a good home base for us. We get to encourage and support each other while pursuing lots of different business opportunities.

It’s scary and wonderful like all new things are.

We are so excited to show off our new space. We have big dreams of hosting workshops, book clubs, and classes here. Our kids like to hang out here (within reason…and as long as we have internet), and we love inviting people to stop by.

With that said, if you’re local and you’ll be attending the New Palestine fall festival, we’d love for you to stop by our open house after the parade–we’ll show you around the new space, feed you some treats, and Jessi will be singing some songs! Just kidding. She’s going to kill me when she sees this. But I mostly write to make myself laugh, so here we are.

How did this happen? How did this dream of writing and not teaching become a reality? Sometimes I ask myself the same question. It’s not lost on me that one year ago this very day I was preparing for the end of my marriage, refusing to talk to my alcoholic husband, and wondering how we would recover from the chaos he was creating in our lives. Little did I know it would get so much worse. But even littler (go with it…) did I know it would get so, so much better too.

God has been faithful. I’m not sure I’ll ever get over that I get to wake up each morning and come to this office and sit in this desk and write. It still seems like an absolute dream. Please don’t pinch me if I’m dreaming right now. I’m too afraid to wake up.

If you want to come see us at the open house, you can go here for the details. Or if you want to keep up with happenings at the Front Room Studio, you can like our Facebook page to not miss the next event (or get more information about hosting your own event here!).

Pictures by Huff Photography

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Enneagram dinner

I know you’ve heard about the Enneagram by now. And not just from me, but a million other people, blogs, Instagram posts, podcasts, and print medias.

But I’m not done with it yet.

There’s still learning and work and discussing and refining to do as I learn more about how I was made and how I can get back to healthy. I hope by now you’ve done a little research or reading about the Enneagram too. Sure, a quick internet test is a good place to start, but don’t leave it there. Also, don’t take that result as the end-all, be-all. It takes time to learn your number. It takes time to understand your true motivation and hurts. But take an Enneagram test and then start exploring.

Just don’t leave it there.

Last Christmas when my First Thursday friends and I did our annual Favorite Things gift exchange, everyone got a copy of The Road Back to You by Ian Morgan Cron and Suzanne Stabile plus the accompanying study guide. My friend Jessi and I were already knee-deep in the Enneagram, and we wanted everyone else to join us.

Most people were on board right away, excited to read the book and see what all the hype was about. One friend (*ahem* JENNIFER), lets us know all the time she only reads smut novels and anything for self-reflection or personal growth is a no-go. I would kindly and lovingly respond to that like this: if you refuse to read any book that proposes to make you a better, healthier version of yourself, you might be the exact person who needs to read it the most.

There, I said it. Moving on.

In the spring, I asked everyone to read the book and do the study. I also shared this online test with them as a great resource to use in their Enneagram research. Again, not the only tool you should use, but a good supplemental one.

As our May gathering approached, I volunteered to host dinner. I asked everyone to be done with the book and study guide by then and come to dinner with a food item to share that represents their number. We had already shared our numbers in a prior conversation, but this was OFFICIAL BOOK CLUB TIME. Everyone wore number tags (instead of name tags) and arrived bearing a food with some take–serious, funny, a stretch, literal, figurative–on their Enneagram number.

(Before I share how dinner went, I need to tell you how great my friends are. I come up with some crazy and weird ideas for us at our monthly dates. Remember when I had everyone write love notes to each other for Valentine’s Day? Years ago when I first suggested we do a Christmas gift exchange, I’m sure everyone rolled their eyes, but all these years later, for most of us, it’s our favorite holiday party. At a dinner recently, I started an argument on how to put on a bra then shared it on Instagram with a few thousand friends and no one batted an eye. So while my friends–some of them who have put up with me since kindergarten–complain and make fun of me for my annoying ideas, they also jump in without hesitation. In high school, that might have gotten us into trouble, but now as thirty-somethings, most of my ideas center around food and books and traveling.)

Dinner was so great. I put together a meat and cheese spread, because I was really feeling those this winter and spring. Plus, I didn’t want us to starve when everyone arrived with desserts. But that was not my Enneagram food. I’ll share that in a second.

Because I love a good book discussion, we centered the discussion on these three things: 1.) the food we prepared and how it represents our number, 2.) one Enneagram trait you felt hit the nail on the head, and 3.) one trait you felt didn’t fit you well.

Then we got to chime in with our observations or questions. It was such a fun evening. There was lots of laughing, a little crying, some truth-telling, and then more laughing.

Jessi, a Two, brought a pasta salad. She explained when deciding what to make, she immediately thought about what Chris Graham would want and then tried to allow enough time to whip up lasagna. Jessi is a helper, obviously, and wanted to make sure the one adult in the house not invited to the Enneagram dinner had something good to eat. She eventually went with a well-loved pasta salad she makes because it would feed us and then the leftovers, which get better after sitting in the fridge for a day or two, would take care of her family too. Twos LOVE to care for others and it made me laugh to hear Jessi explain her choice and never even consider what she might like to eat. Twos, man.

Our friend Jessica, at the time of our dinner, thought she was a Two also. She brought a huge variety bag of Ghirardelli chocolates knowing everyone loved chocolate and could find at least one kind they liked in the bag. It’s important to note Jessica is on the keto diet so she couldn’t technically eat any of the chocolates, but Twos forget to take care of themselves so it made sense. (Jessica has since realized through more study, she’s a Three, not a Two.)

Melissa is a Four, the Individualist. Fours are creative and feel all the feelings. They are also highly critical of themselves which fits perfectly with the elaborate fruit pizza Melissa brought. It’s not an easy or quick recipe and the minute she revealed it, she had to point out all the flaws and then take out her phone and show us the sugar cookie fail she had before she got it right. Fours think they can never be good enough but the fruit pizza was perfect and so is really-hard-on-herself Melissa.

My friend Heather is a Six. Sixes are committed, practical, and chronic worriers. So she brought a healthy bowl of fruit for our dinner–she wanted to make sure we had something nutritious and dependable. Heather was concerned we would eat too much junk food, and she wanted to follow the rules so she went with fruit. (This makes me laugh because it’s so perfect for Heather’s personality. Love it.)

Next is my friend, Krissy, and she’s a Seven. Sevens are fun, spontaneous, and adventurous. They have packed calendars and are always on the lookout for the next adventure or fun time which makes the charcuterie board she brought so fitting. Krissy said when she went shopping, she couldn’t commit to just one thing because there were too many good choices so she just bought everything she saw that looked good and threw it on a platter. This was also done last minute because Sevens don’t have time to plan what they’ll need ahead of time because that’s not fun.

Since I’m going in numerical order, I’m next. We’ve discussed before that I’m an Eight. Eights are very black and white and can come off as cold if you don’t know them well. Obviously, I picked the most flattering traits to focus on–so I went with Oreo milkshakes. Black and white cookies for our tendencies and ice cream because we can seem cold. Throw all that stuff in the mixer, add a splash of milk, and you’ve got yourself a sweet treat representative of an Enneagram Eight. Which is a good overall lesson: Eights can seem too much sometimes, but if you give us a little time and let us soften, we are a great after-school snack. (Didn’t see that coming, did you??)

And last but not least is Jennifer our resident Nine. Nines are pleasant, diplomatic, and accommodating. (Side note: I’m married to a Nine.) It tickles me to write that list out, because as the date of our dinner approached, Jennifer tried to get each girl’s favorite cupcake so she could go to a well-loved bakery in town and get what each of us wanted. She was taking requests to make all of us happy and was going to DRIVE ACROSS THE CITY to buy them for us. That’s a Nine, guys. Here to keep the peace, here to do whatever we want to please us. But since we all know her well enough to say knock it off, Jenny, that’s too much effort, she brought a decadent cheesy potato dish overflowing with bacon and love in the form of carbs and fat. She knows everyone loves bacon and cheese and this was the second best option to make sure we all loved what she made us. NINES! They make really good food and are here for requests.

Oh man, I loved this dinner–I loved hearing why everyone brought their food, I loved the discussions we had about our favorite parts about ourselves, and what we would like to work on. I always look forward to sitting around a table once a month with these girls, and this book club did not disappoint.

Are you into the Enneagram? Gather some fellow Enneagram nerds and do an Enneagram dinner. It’s a silly, fun way to learn about each other and starts a lot of great conversations. Promise.

If you need your own girls’ club–and I believe you do–here’s a good place to start.

DISCLOSURE: AFFILIATE LINKS USED.

8 podcasts you should probably listen to

Do you listen to podcasts? A year ago, my answer would have been no. But somewhere in the last year, I started subscribing to a few on iTunes and now I can’t seem to stop listening. My tastes are wide-ranging and probably a little confusing, but I keep listening to my favorites and always think Everyone should be listening to this! and so I’m sharing the list with you so you can get on board.

Disclaimer: I have a really odd collection listed below. I do not assume you’ll enjoy every single one I recommend, but I hope there’s at least one you fall in love with. I realize my tastes are, um, eclectic.

Girl’s Girls with Brittany Gibbons
This one is like talking to your best friends from high school who have no shame. I love it. I’m going to say it’s probably not for everyone though. If you’re not a fan of cursing or have sensitive ears when it comes to things married people do, skip this one. I am a fan of cursing and do not have sensitive ears so I am a big fan of this really random podcast.

Terrible, Thanks for Asking
I started following Nora McInerny, the host of Terrible, Thanks for Asking, on Instagram a few years ago. She wrote It’s Okay to Laugh about losing her husband and father within a few months of each other. She’s the founder of the Hot Young Widow’s Club and really funny. I love people who can share horrible, hard things and laugh in the midst of their pain. I think it’s the only way to survive, actually. Her new podcast Terrible, Thanks for Asking is heartbreaking and wonderful, hard to listen to and hopeful. I know that’s a weird mix, but I HIGHLY recommend this one. It’s such great storytelling.

The Big Boo Cast
Two authors I love (Melanie Shankle and Sophie Hudson) chat about the most random things and are hilarious. This is just two women who enjoy each other, are very quick witted, love Jesus, and live very normal lives but find so much joy in their every day madness. The talk about things I don’t care about (college football) and suddenly I care about it because they’re very engaging. They’re not very consistent with their episodes so whenever I see a new one pop up, I get excited. Also, I binge listened to tons of their older ones when I was redoing the bathroom floor in our old house and for weeks after, I couldn’t walk into that bathroom without thinking about them. That’s weird, but I felt the need to share it.

Awesome with Alison
Alison (@thealisonshow) on Instagram is new to podcasting. I’ve been following her for years on social media and was intrigued when she started a podcast. She’s still working out how to tell stories and share on this media, but I leave every episode with something enjoyable like a book recommendation or a challenge. She’s not polished but I still like the short episodes she’s creating.

This American Life
If you listen to podcasts, you’re probably already listening to The American Life. As someone who wants to be a good storyteller and really appreciates that skill in others, this podcast is it. I will be honest and say I skip the political ones. I just can’t take more politics talk and so I just delete those without listening. I need my podcast-listening time to be more calming and politics aren’t doing that for me right now.

Young House Love Has a Podcast
Listening to a podcast about home decor sounds the opposite of exciting, but I promise this one is good. Really good. I’ve read John and Sherry’s blog Young House Love for years and was curious when they started a podcast. I wanted them to be successful, but really? Could this work? Actually, YES, it can. It really works and is so enjoyable to listen to. They talk home design, laugh a lot, and keep me entertained. If you like their writing style, you’ll love their podcast too.

Gilmore Guys
This summer as I was prepping for the new Gilmore Girl episodes, I stumbled upon the Gilmore Guys. It’s two guys watching episodes of the Gilmore Girls and talking about it. It’s hilarious. They’re not currently doing anymore Gilmore Guys episodes because the series is over and they already covered the new releases, but if you happen to be re-watching any Gilmore Girls episodes, download this podcast and listen to their commentary on any episode. It’s silly but entertaining.

RV Family Travel Atlas
RV Family Travel Atlas gets me excited about summer travel. I pick and choose which episodes I listen to (some of them I’m not interested in), but if you’re into RV travel, camping, or plan to be one day, this podcast is full of information, ideas, and talk you’ll be interested in.

This is also a plea for your favorites. I listen to podcasts at two specific times: when I’m driving/shopping alone and when I’m exercising. I need high engagement suggestions that make me forget about the miles I’m running or help me ignore all the people of Walmart as I grocery shop. I don’t want politics. I want smart, I want funny, I want a little inappropriate. I like good storytelling.

What do you love to listen to? I’ve been collecting suggestions and recently subscribed to My Favorite Murder, WTF with Marc Maron, You Must Remember This, and Reply All but haven’t listened to any of them yet.

mom road trip

It was very last minute and not really well organized. We made plans on Saturday and left early Sunday morning; truthfully, I didn’t even know where we were going and I thought the amusement park was in northern Indiana. (Side note: I never pay attention to directions. I am married to a human map and even when we travel, he’ll have the city or town memorized an hour after we arrive. So I haven’t had to pay attention to where we are in about eleven years. This is not my fault, it’s just a skill I do not need.)

We started to pull out of my driveway and my friend Christine asked which way. I responded, “I don’t know, is it near Chicago?”

I’m sure our husbands would have died if they knew we were taking off with four kids and we had no idea where we were actually going. But thanks to Google and the handy maps app on our phones, we were on our way to southern Indiana within a few moments.

Crisis averted…before we even left the driveway. We totally got this.

Other things we didn’t tell our husbands when we returned because we would not be allowed to go on road trips together anymore:

-We missed our exit on the way down because we were talking so we used an emergency turnaround going really fast on loose gravel. There was screaming and sliding but NO ONE GOT HURT. Plus, it made a really great story. (I’m really hoping Chris forgets to read this post…)

-I forgot pajamas for my children. When will those little princesses start packing their own bags? Is four and six too young? Because obviously I can’t handle it anymore.

-On Monday we sneaked into the nearby campgrounds so we could scope it out for our next trip. It’s amazing what you can get away with if you just act like you belong somewhere. We even talked maintenance people into letting us tour cabins while they were working. Life tip: Just act confident and people will let you do anything you want.

Best mom road trip ever.

We planned to spend two days at Holiday World and Splashin’ Safari in southern Indiana, but Monday got really cold and wet so we swam at the hotel, broke into the nearby campgrounds, and damaged a 1970’s cot before coming home Monday evening. It was relaxed and wonderful. Traveling with no expectations and one of your best friends by your side is the best, I highly recommend it.

This was our first time at Holiday World and Splashin’ Safari and I can’t recommend it enough. Things you need to know when planning your road trip to Holiday World:

-Soft drinks are free. No, like, really free. I’ve always heard the commercial about free soft drinks and I figured you’d have to go to a certain place, ask for a drink, get a little attitude from an employee (like at the restaurant when you ask for a refill), but I was totally wrong! They have these magical buildings set up all over the park and you just walk in, get whatever you want, and then drink until your little heart is content. And when ordering food, all the drinks are free and do you realize how much money you save when you don’t have to pay for drinks at an amusement park? So.much.money.

-You’re going to need two to three days to get everything done. We left with every intention to come back soon because one day left us with so much undone. Plan for as many days as you can, even being there from open to close isn’t enough time if you only go one day. There’s just so much to do.

-Plan all your meals around Utterly Blue ice cream. It’s by the Mexican restaurant and the BEST ice cream I’ve ever had. (And I don’t mean to brag, but I eat a lot of ice cream…). I had the Oreo flurry because I like classics, but everyone had something different and they were all amazing. Seriously, it was the creamiest ice cream I’ve ever had.

-Something else I’ve heard on the Holiday World commercials is how clean their place is. But I was skeptical…because, well, I’m always skeptical. But it was seriously the cleanest amusement park I’ve ever been to. The bathrooms were immaculate and someone was always walking around cleaning but there was never actually anything to clean so I don’t know what they were really doing. It was like a magical twilight zone where there was just no trash or dirt and I need to figure out how it works so I can re-create it at my house. I wouldn’t be surprised if it didn’t have something to do with the ice cream, but I’m not 100% sure. (I probably need to go back and do more “research.”)

-So many kid zones! I sometimes hesitate to buy tickets to amusement parks because we just spend all our time at the kid areas and I don’t actually get to ride anything which makes me feel like it’s not a great use of our money. But at Holiday World, they have different kid areas spread throughout so I could sneak in an adult ride on the way to a kid ride and we didn’t have to walk halfway through the park with whiny kids that didn’t want to leave their mini-coasters. It was set up perfectly.

-Favorite coaster: The Raven. It’s short but so much fun. Ride it at least five times. Minimum.

So get on it: grab your best friend, some kids, and take a last-minute road trip. Because it’s summer and summer just begs for an adventure.

DISCLOSURE: THIS IS A SPONSORED POST BUT ALL OPINIONS ARE MINE.

how to have a girls’ club

I am in love with the idea of close girlfriends. Movies, books, and TV shows make it seem so fun and easy. But in my life, it’s not that easy. It’s actually really hard to have good, close girlfriends. Because I’m introverted. Because I’m lazy. Because I’m over-scheduled. Because I like books better than most people.

For me, it has always been simple to have friends just not close ones. But the older I get, the more I realize I don’t want to live like that. Even if seeking people out and making friendships a priority isn’t in my nature. We’re not supposed to do life alone and isolated.

So how do we start? How do we even begin to ask others for community and friendship?

There are lots of little ways to make friendship and community a larger part of your life. For me, one way that is still–years later–my absolute favorite is my First Thursday girls. I’ve shared stories of them before and had people comment or email that they wished they had friends like that. So I want you to stop wishing and start having. Here’s how:

–Gather a group of about 6-10 women. I know that seems like a lot, but trust me, 6-10 is good. No bigger though. Spice things up a little by including people that aren’t exactly like you. Maybe invite three friends and tell them to bring a friend each. You don’t have to know everyone in the beginning. Our group, while having the common background of attending high school together, weren’t all best friends. And as adults we’re not all that similar: some of us are married and some of us aren’t, some have kids and some don’t, some are religious and some aren’t, some are democrats and some are republicans. We have enough in common to get along, but we don’t all agree so our conversations help to sharpen each other and allow us to grow together.

–Decide a monthly meeting time and stick with it. My friends and I meet on the first Thursday of every month. I have a writing group that meets on the second Sunday of the month. Pick a time and then get it on the calendar for the rest of the year. No, seriously, write it down and make it a priority.

–Don’t make excuses, just go. There are some times that one or two girls can’t make it. Whether it’s work or family obligations, we might get together with a girl or two missing some months. But the rest of us show up because we can. Try not to miss, make it priority, but know that with 6-10 of you, there will always be enough for a good time. Don’t be the girl that punks out all the time, that’s not the way to make real friends.

–Agree on a meeting place. Are you going out to dinner once a month? Meeting at Starbucks? Gathering at someone’s house? All three? Don’t leave your first hangout without knowing where the next one will be. My friends and I normally meet at someone’s house and we just rotate around.

–Establish a rhythm. This takes time, obviously, and it will be different for each group. Like I said, we normally meet at someone’s house, but every January we go out for Mexican food. After hectic December has passed, we all just want to get out of the house, eat food we didn’t make, and relax. Once it warms up, we try to get out once in the summer to some fun bars downtown. In November we do a Friendsgiving. December is our favorite things gift exchange. For a while we just got together to hang out, but now a few years in, we like to mix it up a bit.

–Be intentional between meetings. Don’t let this be the only time you talk with your group. Set up a Facebook group so you can connect during the week. Remember their birthdays and send cards. Check in when someone is sick or struggling. Invite the group to birthday parties, cookouts, and funerals. (I know that’s an odd combo, but what I mean is doing life together means celebrating and mourning together, so don’t just do the happy stuff because that’s not real.) The little things are hard for me to remember in my day-to-day plans. I can easily get wrapped up in my life and forget that I want to be in community with others. Write down reminders, add things to a to-do list, do whatever you need to do to be intentional with this group of ladies. Put in the work if you want to go deeper with friends.

–Ignore everything I’ve said and do it however you want. I saved the best piece of advice for last. I don’t really have any groundbreaking ideas for belonging to a close-knit group of friends. Mostly I think it just happen organically, but that’s not what keeps it going. There is beauty in a group of friends that lasts–so find that group and get started. Because it will always be worth the time and effort.

when the friendship isn’t healthy

I was sixteen and sitting on the bus, riding home from a basketball game. My Discman (also known as a portable CD player for all you young cats) had just run out of batteries mid-song and I was too lazy to take the headphones off so I closed my eyes thinking I’d just take a little nap before we made it back to school.

Then I heard them: my two best friends talking about me. Sitting in the seat behind me, they were talking about me because they thought I couldn’t hear them. One girl complained about me asking her to braid my hair on the bus ride to the game. The other girl agreed that that was super-annoying and that she just wished I would leave them alone. This typical, high school mean girl stuff went on for a few minutes.

It felt like hours.

Just typing this, reliving those moments, makes my stomach twist up. I can recall with perfect clarity how horrible it made me feel. I felt such shame for not being worthy of their friendship.

I was heartbroken and embarrassed. I wished I could disappear; I wished I could instantly get off the bus and make my way home unseen. But that’s not how things work even when you really, really need them to so I had to suffer through the rest of the bus ride home. I don’t remember much after that. I know it didn’t end our friendship, that we still played basketball together, that we still hung out together, I have the pictures and memories to prove it.

But what I do remember is the absolute devastation of feeling betrayed and unwanted. These were my two best friends and they didn’t want to be my friends? Who was I supposed to be friends with? High school without a friend is horrible. I needed them. I liked them. Why didn’t they like me all of the sudden? Or had they not liked me for a while?

Almost twenty years later, I realize that I could have gotten new friends. I had other friends, other people that wanted to be friends with me, and probably wouldn’t have–literally and figuratively–talked about me behind my back.

I was thinking about that story the other day as I was puttering around the house. Wondering what friends I have now that I need to do without, what friends I have now that cause me to feel insecure, betrayed, or unwanted. I know that’s a crazy question to ask myself, but I wanted to make sure I wasn’t letting things–people, relationships, distractions–into my life that were taking away from it instead of making it better. I am too loved and too awesome to let people in that make me feel bad about myself.

Also, you are too loved and too awesome to let people in that make you feel bad about yourself. You know that, right?

It sounds like such a simple truth, but I know it’s really not. I have had friends before that I shouldn’t have had for no other reason than they took more than they gave. I’m not talking about friends that need you for a season and then you need them for a season and you take turns caring for each other. That is wonderful and what friends are for. I’m talking about people that just take. And take and take and take. They never fill, they never serve, they never lessen our burdens or loads.

Those people have to go. Those people need to step back.

I didn’t learn this lesson until my thirties. I had to have some friendships fail to be able to learn this lesson. I had to feel the uncomfortable fit of forced relationships that weren’t meant to be so that I could learn what the healthy, life-giving ones really looked and felt like.

And it was so worth it. Because I’d say the friends I have now, the relationships that are growing and blooming and supporting me, are pretty great.

I want that for you, too. I want you to have friends that make your life better not worse. I want you to have some ride-or-die friends that have your back no matter what. I also want you to know what ride-or-die means so if you need to, Google that shiz.

Having good friends makes every aspect of our lives better. I believe my marriage is better because of my friends. I believe I’m a better mom because of my friends. I believe I’m a better friend because of my friends. So if you’ve got people in your life that leave you feeling less than or are tearing you down instead of building you up, it’s probably time to say goodbye to them. You deserve to have good, real, encouraging friends. Life is too short to be around people that don’t add to your life.

I just wish I had learned this truth sooner.

Joe on his birthday

Today my friend Joe would have turned 41 but instead of singing ‘happy birthday’ we’re mourning him. Joe passed away last June in a car accident. I wrote this the week after he died and couldn’t imagine doing life without him. That reality is still hard to swallow nine months later.

We spent the weekend doing things my friend Joe would have loved. That made it all the more bittersweet to think he’s no longer here to enjoy them.

Teaching middle school is an odd experience. You spend the majority of your day with little-to-no adult contact. So when you get those stolen moments away from kids: during a passing period, at lunch, or on your prep period, you feel almost giddy about interacting with adults. It’s during those moments that you bond. You bond over crazy kids, bad bosses, inappropriate jokes, and what you did last weekend when you escaped this place.

This profession is wearing, unglamorous, and mostly thankless. It takes a ridiculous person to choose to teach middle schoolers. They are awkward and gross and unsure. The good news is they’ll grow out of it and be normal again soon. But we get them for those glorious years and try to love them when it’s hard to sometimes even like them.

The adults you’re in the trenches with become your dearest friends. Some better than others but there is this camaraderie that can only come from the test tube of middle school. You watch your fellow teachers get married, have kids, live lives and you’re doing it with them. You take a break from each other in the summer but still text and hang out occasionally. Then school starts again and you pick up right where you left off. No one understands the job unless you’re in it so the bond forms quickly and last forever.

During that break when someone leaves unexpectedly, like Joe did in a car accident, you reel in so many directions. It doesn’t seem possible that he’s gone because it’s summer break and you know when we all stumble back into school the week before kids return that he’ll be there setting up his classroom and making copies just like you. He’ll be walking down the hall with a smile and a kind word for everyone. On Fridays he’ll send out an all-staff email inviting everyone to a “meeting” at the local bar after school. And when Valentine’s Day comes, he’ll hand out Star Wars valentines and dollar carnations to all the female staff members. He can’t be gone because it was just summer break. We’re all gone over summer break, but we all come back. That’s how it works.

I believe you have to be a little bit off to teach middle school. It’s not a bad thing, but to survive in this job, you have to be a special breed. Joe was made to teach middle school. He was a middle-aged white guy who made up raps about putting your name on your paper, liked to walk down the hall with his python Monty (get it??) wrapped around his neck, spend all his money at the book fair buying kitty posters for male teachers, and occasionally came to school dressed as his “twin brother” that he pulled off so convincingly that former students now in college still believe he has an identical twin.

I don’t know how to do middle school without him. I don’t know how to eat lunch in the teacher’s lounge without him. I don’t know how to get in the building after a big snow without Joe driving his truck through the parking lot making paths for everyone. I don’t know how school is going to work now.

Joe was one of those annoying people that always had something nice to say about everyone even when you happened to be in the middle of complaining about them. He just couldn’t see the bad in people and was eternally optimistic. It was super-frustrating to want to whine about something and for Joe to try to spin it into something positive. JUST LET ME BITCH, I’d say.

When I first learned that Joe had died, I didn’t believe it. I immediately called his cell phone thinking it was just some kind of joke and he would answer the phone laughing and yell “PSYCH!” like he did with students.

But he didn’t answer.

He had been gone for about five hours at that point. I felt like I should have sensed it, that I should have known in my soul when a good friend had died. Like in the movies when a character pauses because of an unsettling feeling and later finds out something bad was happening at moment. I think life should be like that. I should be able to feel a little piece die inside when I lose someone important. It shouldn’t happen every day when I wake up and I realize all over again that he’s not here. It should be immediate and permanent, not something that I have to relearn every day.

That’s the hardest part about losing someone. The losing them over and over again.

from jealous to proud

There were so many sweet things that came from writing love notes to my girlfriends a few weeks ago. It went better than I had imagined and the things I walked away with will stay with me for a long time. That was unexpected, to be honest.

As we sat around the table sharing our valentines with each other, we talked about our experience writing them. My wise friend Jessi said this was like a writing exercise in that she had to sit down and think through what she wanted to say. I said it was for me too, that I wanted to be very intentional with my words so it took a lot of time to come up with just the right things to say.

It took me a few days to write my eight letters. I would write a few and then feel spent, so I’d wait a day or two and do a few more. Jessi said she tried to think of what she was proud of each of us for, but it started out in a place of jealousy. She had to figure out what she was jealous of, work her way through those feelings of not wanting to be jealous of her friends, and then write out what everyone was good at, what she saw as our strengths, and tried to be happy for us instead of envious.

I couldn’t have summed up better what writing those cards was like for me. I didn’t even realize what I was doing until Jessi said it out loud.

The thing is I don’t want to be a thirty-something adult who is jealous of my friends. I want to root my friends on and feel elated when good things come their way. I want to be excited and celebrate their successes and champion hard for them. But I first had to admit that sometimes I’m jealous of them and then figure out how to get rid of it.

There will always be people that have what I want. Or what I think I want. But I don’t want to be jealous of my friends. I want to be cheerleaders for them and happy, so happy, for them.

Their stories are different from mine, we can’t all be doing the same things and be good at the same things, that’s not the way it works. And I don’t want to ruin relationships because I can’t get a grip on my jealousy. I don’t want to miss out on encouraging and uplifting others because I can’t handle my own insecurities, my own sense of never being fulfilled or having enough.

Man, what an eye-opening conversation, what an eye-opening exercise in learning about myself and my mess. I don’t want to be jealous, I know it robs me of so much joy. It clouds my vision and makes me blind to the things I have and instead lets me focus on all the things I don’t.

I don’t want to live like that.

Recently my friend Laura put together a women’s writing group. We meet once a month to talk writing (nerd alert: I LOVE to talk about writing) and to support and encourage each other. I love the idea of this. But I’ve had to deal with some insecurities to get to be excited about it. Writing is a very solitary thing and inviting others in can be scary. Being around talented people can be scary. But I have prayed hard that I won’t be jealous of these women. I want nothing but joy to come from our interactions. I want to be around smart, successful, powerful women and not feel like we’re against each other.

I don’t want to live like that.

So that’s what I’m doing with intention now. Being purposeful, happy, and proud of my friends, joyful they are strong where I am weak and delighted that they are brilliant in areas I can only dream about. I have such talented friends, guys. I am such a lucky girl.

writing love notes to my girlfriends

Yes, you read that right.

This Valentine’s Day, I’m writing love notes to all my First Thursday girls. (First Thursday girls are a group of my friends from high school that get together the first Thursday of every month for dinner at someone’s house. I’ve known the majority of these girls since I was in kindergarten. I think we’ve been doing this for almost two years at this point.)

At our Christmas shindig I explained my idea for February’s dinner and everyone rolled their eyes. Mostly because they’re just tired of me coming up with weird ideas and making them do it so I can write about it. But here’s my thinking: some of us give cards to our spouses or boyfriends and some of us don’t give cards to anyone because we’re single. And while romantic love is grand and lovely and blah blah blah, there are a lot of other people in my life that I love and I probably don’t tell enough.

Last year I wrote about how I love Valentine’s Day and wish more people didn’t think it was such a terrible thing. But one of the reasons I love this completely made-up and ridiculous holiday is because I get to do fun stuff with my kids whom I love dearly, I get to wear pink and red to school and not feel like I’m clashing, and people are just nicer to each other on this day. So when I was thinking about loving people well (something I want to do better), I thought about all the non-romantic love I have for people in my life and how they might not know how much I dig them.

So I’m writing love notes to my girlfriends this year. And I’m making them write them also even though they’re all grumbling and one person has dubbed this “lesbian card exchange.” I’m not asking for everyone to write page-long letters to everyone else in the group, but I am asking everyone to write something. A little encouragement, a thanks, a funny story, a favorite memory of them, whatever, I’m just asking my friends to write to each other. It’s making some people really uncomfortable and I realize that not everyone loves to write like I do, but I do know that everyone likes to receive cards and handwritten ones are best, so we’re working through the grumbling.

I’m also completely aware that my friends are good sports. I find it slightly funny that they roll their eyes at my ideas and then just do it anyway. Those are some good friends, guys. Go get yourself some of those if you don’t have them.

So tonight I’m exchanging Valentine’s Day cards with my girlfriends. I didn’t think through whether we’d open them up in front of everyone, I kinda hope we don’t, but I can’t wait to hand out my cards. And I hope this sticks, that we get to spend every February for years to come trading cards with each other. Some of these girls were around to put their Cabbage Patch and Lisa Frank cards in my shoebox mailbox in elementary school and I’m just thankful they’re still in my life. And that they just roll their eyes and accept me.

Pictures by Huff Photography

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