A friend I spoke with yesterday told me how great it was that my girls got to see me as someone other than a mother, wife, daughter on our recent trip with my friend Bonnie. It made me start thinking about the value of long friendships—the ones that start before you are fully formed—for many of us college relationships--and how valuable they become in mid-life.
I have double-edged benefit of living in the same town I grew up in—it is great for so many reasons—my family is right down the road and not 1500 miles away as they are for so many of my friends, my girls go to the same schools I went to, have had some of the same teachers, walk to town on the same streets, have friends whose parents went to elementary school with me. The downside is that in so many ways my few years away from here allowed me to develop a self that felt comfortable and right to me, but as long as I am in my hometown, there is always a me that people assume they know—but she is not the only me. There is another self that developed while I was away at college—an evolving person. I liked that not quite fully-formed girl I was in college. She was a little wild, introspective, fun, competitive, sensual, sassy, funny, conflicted, smart, and far less certain of the world than she let on. She is still in my heart. She is, in fact, the person my husband fell in love with. Being with the people that knew me then is like putting on a well-worn shirt or comfortable pair of shoes—not only do they fit, but they feel good and my world becomes balanced.
As the complexities of life catch up to me, it is sometimes hard to maintain a sense of individuality—experiences are mostly based upon my relationships with the people around me. In my everyday world I am mother, wife, daughter, sister, co-worker, coach, and Mrs. Carey to those around me. Often parenthood, especially, feels like a slow erosion of self—a gradual wearing down of self. Not just the drip of responsibility but the ticking away of time. This feels especially true since the girls hit adolescence. Look at a given week during the school year and you will see soccer games, flute lessons, homework projects, school meetings, and a hundred other small things that focus on the girls, life really has become mostly about them and I am sometimes so pressed for time that I give up the few things that I do for myself—a long walk, writing, gardening—just to get things done for them.
And yet there is nothing in this world I would rather be than Megan and Ally’s mom. It is the best thing David and I have done in life—raising these two curious, smart, talented, funny, happy girls. And I will continue to sacrifice my time to see that they succeed. I remember very distinctly the point when their successes became more important than my own achievements—it is a turning point in parenthood, that juncture when your ambition for yourself becomes secondary to your desire for your children’s happiness and success. For me it was the moment in second grade when Megan’s teacher said “I can’t wait to see what she becomes…”
I know that my heart has opened to new experiences because of motherhood—it makes many of my friendships that much richer and more profound. That is why being with a friend who knows this me and remembers the not quite formed me and all the others in between is such a joy—it is a relief to not have to explain myself, to feel the history that flows between us in a thousand remembered experiences, to have the language that friends share—all the private jokes and small secrets—to be with someone who knows all the people in my past and most of those in my present, and who encourages me to be the person I like to be—that is a gift that only friendship can give. And it means that I can be that unrestrained smart-ass that I like and she celebrates that person. She also recognizes that I am still not so sure about the world and helps me work through my own sense of uncertainty. I am so grateful for that. And for the girl she allows me to be…
My daughters got to see that girl, too. Enjoyed seeing their mom totally relaxed and laughing, poking fun at them and the world, having a blast. I will remember that girl when the long lazy days of summer give way to the whirlwind of autumn and life becomes busy once more. And I will celebrate her.
