Friends

I opened my soccer-mom chair a few feet away from an unfamiliar face on the sidelines.

So many of us had been watching our sons’ practice soccer since they were preschoolers, but I hadn’t seen this woman before.

I could hear her talking to another mom about soccer and practices and then she began talking about the middle school her son attended. My ears perked up because I had just finished attending Orientation for that school.

I turned my head slightly, and the third mom motioned to me. “Isn’t that where Josh will be going?” she asked. I nodded and mentioned he seemed interested in the show-hog program. “It’s expensive,” the new woman said. “Really?” I asked, now turning my body toward her. She told me about the cost of feed and medicine, the fact that our sons would have to take care of the hogs every single day – weekends and school holidays included. My heart dropped a little. I moved my chair a little closer. “How much would you say you spend each month?” I asked, afraid to know the answer. She could tell I was growing anxious. “I’m not saying your son shouldn’t do it, but it’s important to know all the details going in.”

That was six years ago. Marlo and I became good friends, and she’s still telling me all the facts, even if I don’t want to hear them. I feel grateful for inserting myself into that conversation that evening.

At lunch years ago with my friend April Mucci, founder of Lakeland Mom, she shared how, despite the many questions about breastfeeding, cloth diapers and finding the right daycare, one of the top questions submitted by fellow moms is: How do I find friends? April and I admitted that makes us sad.

We all leave high school and college with strong friends and then we set out to build a life for ourselves. First jobs are time-consuming, so is dating. You find yourself with less time for being with childhood friends, let alone having time to put forth the effort to find new ones. Most of your friends in your 20s are found in and around your workplace. For some of us, babies arrive and our time seems like it is no longer our own. Hanging out at bookstores, concerts, coffee shops – where conversations are easy to strike up – happens less frequently. But then you become Josh’s mom and find common ground with others through your children. Being an ag mom, a soccer mom, a school mom helped me make friends as an adult – some of my closest, in fact. Still, I sometimes find myself spilling my guts to the Publix cashier. Maybe she’s looking for a BFF too?

But seriously, making a friend requires gambling and luck and maybe even a little self-talk. Here’s how former First Lady Michelle Obama describes it in “The Light We Carry”:

“Nowadays, when I’m talking to young people, I’ll often hear them express fear or hesitation about exactly this moment in a new friendship – that hinge point when you make the move from Nice to meet you to Hey, let’s hang out. They’ll say it feels weird and awkward to pursue a potential friend, to ask someone to have coffee or get together outside of work or school, or to try talking face-to-face with someone they’ve only known online. They worry about appearing too eager, thinking it makes them seem desperate or uncool. They are afraid to take that risk, worried about rejection.”

I smile when I see in the “Why I Live in Lakeland” Facebook group someone taking the leap and posting they are looking for someone with whom to walk the lake, go to a music festival or have toddler playdates. They are taking that risk that Michelle talks about.

But so many of us don’t. According to a 2021 survey, close to half of American adults reported they have fewer than three close friends. Twelve percent said they have none at all.

Perhaps it was easier for past generations. They belonged to bowling leagues and fraternal organizations. The went to church in much larger numbers. Through Robert Putnam’s 2001 book, “Bowling Alone,” we come to understand that the advent of TV and all the other technologies that came after gradually caused us to be increasingly solitary. We stay home more often. We’ve become weak in that friendship-making dance.

Still, lockdowns and remote work show us that we are social creatures. We need each other. Despite advances in medicine and technology, Americans of all ages are battling depression and anxiety like never before. Spending time with friends as well as knowing you can call someone in your darkest moments and feel unconditionally safe with another person lessens depression and anxiety. As Michelle writes, we need friends to help us navigate our adult world. I know I do.

“Every friendship has an ignition point. By necessity, it involves a deliberate extension of curiosity from one person to another, and I believe this is an offer you should never be ashamed to make. To say I am curious about you is a form of gladness … Yes, it can be awkward to express for the very first time that you might actually be glad to see someone if they were to meet you for coffee or maybe show up at your birthday party, but when they do show up and you do feel glad, you both get the gift.”

I’m so glad I asked Marlo for her phone number that night. We’re still cheering our sons on, and she’s still telling me what I need to hear. And I her. It is a gift.