I’m in my 30s and have no friends.
So, there you have it.
I’ve said it out loud.
Or at least typed it.
I am a grown woman, in my 30s and I don’t have friends. I have a great job, a few kids and a husband. I have a couple of dogs, a cat, a full bookshelf and a social media presence that gives the illusion of having friends. But, I don’t think I really have any. Or at least, not many.
Friendship break ups are often harder to get over, but why don’t we talk about them as much? Post continues…
Once upon a time, I spent hours upon hours and what seemed like an endless summer with my friends, listening to music, sleep overs, shopping – all the usual teenage friendship activities. And to be fair, it’s these few people that remember my birthday without being prompted by Facebook.
Then I went to university and met a new crop of people and spent countless nights out on the town and having various misadventures as we came of age.
And then I got a serious job and made some friends I worked with and we spent hours at trendy bars debriefing about our stressful job. And then some of them moved away and I moved away and life moved on.
I had a few kids, met some ‘mum friends’ that never really stuck and then the other day, I had a bit of a crisis when I wondered what had happened to my friends.
Is it me? Or them?
Don’t get me wrong, I regularly text with a few people and we tag each other in memes at least three times a day, that’s a friendship right?
But the thing that got me really thinking was when I was changing the sheets on the spare bed after the usual musical beds that happens when you have several small children in your house. You see, I have moved away from the epicenter of the action, followed the masses into a tree change and am now a solid hour away from my friends and considerably further away from my family. But on the day in question, I couldn’t remember the last time I made up the spare bed for a friend and it made me quite sad.