In my twenties, friendship felt easier. Everyone had time. No one had kids. We could be spontaneous, meet for drinks on a random Tuesday, or spend hours talking without needing to coordinate calendars or childcare. We were all moving through life stages—college, first jobs, questionable roommates—in lockstep. There was comfort in that shared rhythm.

Now? Everyone’s on different tracks. Some friends are deep into parenting; others are single and jet-setting. Some are managing aging parents, others are climbing the career ladder with both hands. And as a solo parent, my time isn’t just limited—it’s spoken for before I even wake up most days.

So I’ve had to relearn friendship as a practice. It doesn’t just happen anymore; it takes planning, intention, and energy I don’t always have. But I do it anyway—because I’ve learned that connection matters more now than it ever did before.

I schedule the coffee. I send the text. I follow up. I show up to the awkward mom events, the community meetups, the random school fundraisers—because sometimes your people are hiding in plain sight, waiting for you to make the first move.

And when I find even a flicker of connection, I nurture it. Not because I have time, but because I need it.

Friendship now isn’t about volume or constant presence. It’s about consistency. It’s about the people who get it when you don’t text back for a week and still pick up where you left off. It’s about building a life where connection is part of the infrastructure—not an afterthought.