Solo parenting is a lot of things—relentless, beautiful, exhausting, empowering—but one thing it’s not is spacious. There’s no built-in margin for error or rest, let alone connection. And yet, I’ve learned that connection is the thing that keeps me going. Especially because I’m not just extroverted—I’m cripplingly extroverted. I don’t just like people; I need people.

For a long time, I convinced myself that friendships would survive on occasional texts and mutual nostalgia. But the truth is, friendship—real, sustaining friendship—requires effort. Reaching out. Repeatedly seeing people. Showing up, even when your Google Calendar is a battlefield. And for me, that means treating social connection like a non-negotiable part of my mental health plan.

I’ve had to get creative. I say yes to group chats. I invite people over even when my house is a disaster. I show up to community events, school fundraisers, and awkward parent meetups. I lean into the working mom groups, the neighborhood potlucks, the congregation coffee hours—because these are the places where my people might be.

And when I find even a hint of a real connection? I water it. I follow up. I schedule the coffee. I check in. Because one-off connections are lovely, but friendship is built in the repetition—through being present, again and again.

It’s not always easy. Sometimes I’m so tired it feels impossible to put energy anywhere but survival. But I also know this: isolation creeps in fast when you’re doing it all alone. And connection—even small, imperfect, messy connection—can be the thing that steadies you.

So yes, I’m relearning what support looks like. It’s not just who shows up for me—it’s also who I keep showing up for.