
I've had to make friends most of my life. Not because I'm losing friends, but because I've lived in so many places, it's hard to keep up with everyone.
Having your closest friends live hours and plane rides away sucks. It sucks even more when you've had the hardest day ever and all you want is to run to their house to vent to someone who truly understands what's going on.
Because I've moved around a lot, I've had to learn how to be friends with many different people. One of my biggest challenges lately is being able to keep up with everyone like I used to.
I'm in a stage of life that demands so much of my time and attention. I entered this stage shortly after moving to a new city where neither my husband nor I knew a soul.
That first year, I tried desperately to maintain connections like before. But if I'm being honest? It became exhausting. While trying to nurture relationships across state lines, I was simultaneously attempting to build a community in my new city—oh, and make a baby.
For new friendships to work, I need to feel intentionality behind our interactions. The friendship has to be equal parts effort, not one person constantly reaching out while the other lies in waiting.
Since I was pouring my energy into new connections, some of my oldest friendships unconsciously took a back seat. And yes, I cried about it.
I remember seeing photos of friends gathered together for something I would typically have known about and been included in. I learned about it only when it appeared on my timeline.
Here's a secret: I actually recorded a tearful voice note to send to a friend. I was sobbing so hard and rambling for so long that my phone screen dimmed and stopped recording without me realizing. Looking back, that was probably a blessing in disguise.
After sitting with those feelings for a while, I began to understand why I had such a strong emotional reaction that day. It took several months and a few more revealing conversations to reach a simple truth:
I can't be close friends with everyone, forever.
I can be friends with you, but the depth of our friendship will naturally ebb and flow throughout our lives—especially when major life changes shift your time, availability, or location.
Yes, there are people who remain constants regardless of time or distance. But sometimes, those relationships you thought would go the distance shift in unexpected ways. I wasn't prepared for that shift.
It caught me completely off guard.
It forced me to ask myself some difficult questions.
I'm a big believer in following the energy. If someone gives you what you need in your current season, keep that energy close.
After experiencing a miscarriage, I found myself in a dark place. The emotional whiplash of excitement followed by scheduling a D&C on Christmas Eve—which happens to be the day after my birthday—took a tremendous toll. I needed friends who could physically be there to hug me and truly relate to what I was going through.
Did I share my feelings over phone calls and FaceTime? Yes. But there's nothing like sitting beside a girlfriend and just letting it all out—Christina Yang and Meredith Grey style.
Then after getting pregnant again and having our beautiful son, we discovered he has a rare genetic diagnosis causing several developmental delays.
I needed physical friendship in a way I'd never realized before. The touch and laughter of in-person connection recharges you unlike anything else. Can we travel to get this from distant friends? Absolutely. But sometimes the moment or season makes that impossible.
I don't love any of my friends less because we might not be as close as before. But I've had to acknowledge that maintaining multiple deep friendships takes serious work. Not that surface-level shit—I'm talking about being genuinely invested in someone's life. It requires everyone in the friendship to do their part.
True friendships will circle back around. If they don't, then love them for what they were in the days, years, and moments when they were good to you.