'I'm an excellent wife and mum. But I can't seem to keep any friends.'

In my 33 years of life, I have learnt that I am a good daughter, loving partner, patient mother and extremely talented at losing friends. 

If you were to ask my mother what her favourite trait of mine is, it would be that I am obedient. I follow rules and directions, mostly sans attitude and only with an occasional eye roll. My partner would probably tell you he loves how chill I am, especially now that I have reduced my road rage incidents from daily to a few times per fortnight. My daughter, well she’s 16 months old so her favourite word at the moment is “meow” but she’d probably tell you she loves my boobies.

Looking at my track record of losing friends, it has mostly spanned from my late adolescence, with a dramatic increase in numbers in my late twenties. I will not name any names, in case my current friends fear that they too will become named as a statistic later on.

Watch: The Mamamia team shares the biggest arguments they've had over the smallest things. Post continues after video.

All these friendships start the same. First, we find that we have something in common that I may have fabricated, exaggerated or invested myself into – but secretly there is usually something that I admire about the other person, whether it be their beauty, intelligence or confidence. Next, we spend every waking moment doing things together or communicating with each other. Then, I place unrealistic expectations on them to be there for me through the turbulence of growing up. Last, I am shocked and disappointed when they do not meet the high standards I place on our friendship and stop communicating with them. Again, I act shocked when they do not make the effort to communicate with me - despite me ignoring them first.

I was indoctrinated into the dating scene in Year 9 and was convinced that drama made relationships, including friendships, interesting. Surely if I overshare the complexities of my family life, the other person would find the broken pieces of me and somehow make me whole again? And by oversharing my complexities, they would share theirs too and we find we are both broken and can be broken together.

I went from being deeply, unequivocally and involved with a person, whether it be platonic or romantic, to having my heart shattered when the tone in their voice changed ever so slightly. I pictured growing up with a person then catastrophising about their text messages when they omitted to use an emoji. I found navigating through relationships and friendships confusing because surely, they too loved me and pictured our lives together as we grew grey and old. Then why did they not meet the expectations that I set for them in my mind? If you love a person, surely they know your wants and needs without you having to spell them out?

Again and again, this pattern repeated from high school to university, to my numerous workplaces. Unlike Taylor Swift, I did not recognise that I was the problem. Everyone around me agreed with me as I somehow became a master at telling people what they needed to hear to be on side. It wasn’t until the pandemic when I had nowhere else to go but deep into my psyche that I was forced into introspection and appalled by what I saw. Perhaps my behaviour contributed to the failed female friendships that I so deeply cherished.

Listen to Mamamia Out Loud where the hosts shared their most impactful friendship breakdowns. Post continues after audio.

The daily five kilometre walks I took during the pandemic for my mental health by the creek near my house is where I went on a psychedelic trip deep into my subconscious mind. Podcasts were my mushrooms and psychology my pills. I am obedient because I do not want to challenge the status quo. I appear to be chill because it gets more people to like me. I show patience to others because sometimes I perceive people are not patient with me. My attributes were behaviours I learnt to grow up.

The more I dig, the more I confront parts of me I dislike. But, acknowledging and dissecting these parts has been liberating. On this trip, I have been incidentally discovering people on the same path and it is almost laughable. The consensus is that in your twenties; you do the damage you need to heal from in your thirties. Motherhood is where you learn how to mother your inner child in order to raise an emotionally intelligent child.

I am excellent at losing friends. Each one, having been beautiful, smart and confident - attributes that I want to emulate. We threw each other lifebuoys whilst charting through adolescence, education, relationships and our careers. But, it was not enough for me. It was not until I was full of regret that I realised where the problem was.

Angela Buenaventura is an inclusive education teacher, writer and new mother. Motherhood has given Angela the bravado needed to take more risks. Follow her on Instagram @healingtowrite.

Feature Image: Supplied.