Female friendships after kids—where are my friends?

There is a misconception about female friendships that we need to address.

My friendships with other women have been a cornerstone in my life. The constant that keeps me grounded, makes me feel safe and gives a sense of true community that cannot be manufactured. But it always felt as if there was an expiration date on those friendships.

I remember hearing from a lot of people—“Oh, she had kids, we don’t see her anymore” or “All she talks about is her kids.”

There are similar shifts in friendship that people anticipate and accept whether it’s getting into a relationship or marrying someone.

The fundamental misconception I have been struggling with is that friendships shift in this negative way once kids come into the picture.

I’ve since realized the truth is much more complicated than that.

We make space in our lives for romantic partners to change wildly over the years. We celebrate change in ourselves. Why don’t we give our friends who become mothers the same grace?

The truth is that it is possible to maintain the same level of connection after kids. I know this because I have friends who do not have kids, with whom I have gotten substantially closer to in the three years since I had my son.

These friends adjusted their expectations of me and met me where I was at each stage.

They didn’t shy away from conversations about postpartum depression or breastfeeding issues.

They engaged with where I was at because they love me—all the versions of me.

Looking back, I was a bit surprised by the friends who refused to give up on me and equally surprised by the ones who did. I tried to give those friends grace and understand that I changed in a huge way. I didn’t even recognize myself anymore so how could I expect them to recognize me? I did my best to communicate my needs.

”Please invite me even if I can’t come.”

“Please text me during maternity leave. I am lonely and you are not ‘bothering’ me.”

But they just didn’t.

I was one of the first amongst my friends to have kids, so I understand growing pains come with that but three years later it seems like that excuse is stale. That doesn’t mean I don’t miss them—and I don’t miss who I was with them. In the past, I would have reached out, asked what I did wrong, asked if we could get together and talk it through. Now, I just simply do not have the energy—and that’s on me.

The fact is that with becoming a mother comes a lot less tolerance for BS. And, ultimately, that means losing friends. It’s sad, but it’s not our fault. It’s not their fault. It’s a decision that both sides actively choose each day.

Yet, the friends that do stick around make it all worthwhile. Motherhood is hard enough. Surround yourself with people who google “mastitis” for you and offer to FaceTime with your baby while you stare at a wall. The friends who are thrilled to have your toddler join them on a trip that used to be just adults. The friends who aren’t just willing but are excited for you to bring your kid to brunch. The friends who have no idea who Blippi is but will be excited for you when you score tickets to a show.

Unconditional love in my female friendships looks a lot different after kids. Three years later, it gives me some peace to know that those friends who stuck around aren’t ever going anywhere.