I mentioned in my last full-length post how the frosting on the cake for our famvay* was meeting a couple bloggers. I met T whose current blogging project is The Ten Things Blog and Heather from Becoming Cliché, and both meetings were the puppies and rainbows and snowfall on Christmas that you’d expect.
*That’s Pinterest-speak for “family vacation”. I just made it up to show off my wordsmithian skillz and also to demonstrate what happens to your brain as an adult when you eat crayons as a child. I knew you were wondering.
I am not the first person to notice that it’s harder to meet people and make real friends as an adult. One of the reasons I’ve loved writing about my past experiences this summer for Remember the Time is because I can reminisce on my childhood, which I am just now realizing was a really long time ago, somehow. Back then, friendships were effortless, or at least lacking in the over-thinking we often fall prey to as adults. As kids, we were open to doing whatever our young cohorts suggested because we lacked the wariness brought on by age and getting burned. Kids had little malice behind their actions so it was easier to form bonds with them. When our relationships with other children did get testy, we had our parents to referee our fights and protect us.
Youth is hard, but you’re surrounded by other kids who are facing largely the same challenges of becoming humans, and that’s one of the things that bands you together.
Adulthood isn’t so easy. The training wheels of life come off. You have bills to pay, a job that you never played make-believe at when you were small, and you will have to stand in line at the DMV at some point. While standing in line, you’ll be with other adults who likely have very similar problems and challenges as you, but they will not be your friend, nor you theirs. Who has time to get to know them? We’re too busy worrying about how much money is in our bank account, or our focus on their filthy shoes cannot be broken for the moment it would take to realize that they probably like the same TV shows that we do and would geek out on Arrested Development inside jokes with us if we gave them the chance.
It’s hard to make friends. Our adulthood gets in the way.
But I have made some new friends, and this blogosphere has helped me do it. I can be more transparent here and so can you. Writing on the Internet has allowed me to flesh out hundreds of ideas (yes, HUNDREDS. I apparently have something to say. Who knew?). People have read them, I’ve read their thoughts too, and in this process of reading and discussion I’ve learned that the world is full of very real people who are good. Not only good, but friend material.
T is well-spoken and funny, an activist at heart who loves humanity deeply and her family even more. I’m not the kind of person who would ever be classified as a hugger, but seeing her across from me at Starbucks made me turn into one because the love and warmth she radiates begs to be hugged. You just want to grab on to a piece of that love.
Heather is a gem. She has a calming presence and she’s as sharp as a tack. She’s the kind of mom I want to be in fifteen years: honing my sense of humor, watching Antiques Roadshow, and resorting to Moon Pies when the going gets rough. Heather has “known” me since I was a pregnant woman just talking about morning sickness and sleep deprivation, and she’s always been a friend in that she listened and gave me the kind of advice she knew I needed to hear because she had been in my position before. When I sat across from her at a hipster restaurant in her town, it came full circle. And it would have even if she hadn’t brought along a box of Moon Pies for me.
Which she did. Because she’s awesome. Dur.
I am grateful for my blog, and I am grateful for all of you. You make me want to compile a bucket list just so I can put meeting you on it.
I started making this post funny but then I got all emotional and ridiculous because I love you guys and you make me weepy. Be sure to check out Heather’s very funny post about meeting me in her town. I’m pretty sure she didn’t cry while writing it. It even got Freshly Pressed!