becoming at Home

One thing I think you should know about me is that I am very good at being an introvert. Looking back, I can also say that I’m pretty good at making friends… for a season. I do, however, kind of suck at making lifelong friends. Can anyone else relate?

If you looked at my life, every chapter has me (the main character, obviously) and maybe one or two people who were my best friends during that time. But every chapter seems to end the same way—those friendships eventually fade. And the funny thing is, it’s almost never because of some huge falling out. There’s usually no betrayal, no dramatic ending, no “we can never speak again” moment. It’s simply because the friendship outgrew itself.

I used to see that as a bad thing. I thought maybe there was something wrong with me. Why couldn’t I have those lifelong, ride-or-die friendships that everyone else seemed to have?

But nowadays, I’m starting to realize… maybe that’s just life.

People change. People find other people they deeply connect with. Some people move away. Some people enter completely different stages of life. And honestly? None of that means those friendships weren’t real. If anything, I’ve had some incredible friends. I have so many wonderful memories with people who are no longer a daily part of my life. They mattered. They still matter.

So, what does this have to do with motherhood, parenthood, and SAHM life?

Well, lately, I’ve had to remind myself that not every person I meet is meant to become my forever friend. Not every mom I meet at the library, at the park, or during a random playdate is automatically going to become my best-mom-friend. And that’s okay.

I’ve started changing my perspective to this:

“Even if we’re only friends for a few weeks, I still count that as a blessing. Because for those few weeks, I got to make a connection with another human being.”

BAM. Pressure off.

Don’t get me wrong—I absolutely understand the importance of community. I understand the importance of having a village and being part of someone else’s village. We were never meant to do life completely alone. But I think we sometimes make the mistake of believing that if someone isn’t in our lives forever, then their presence somehow mattered less. And I don’t think that’s true.

A person can be part of your story for a short chapter and still leave a lasting impact.

When we lived in Buda, TX, I met a mom who had two sons. Before I was pregnant, we probably only hung out 2-3 times. She was actually the first person who noticed that I was pregnant. During my first year of motherhood, when I was going through a really difficult postpartum season, she came over and stayed for two nights to help me. After that, we probably only hung out another 3-4 times before we moved away. Her and I still keep in touch. We send texts maybe once or twice a month. If one of us is in town, we try to make time to see each other.

To some people, that might not seem like a deep friendship. But to me? It’s something I treasure. She’s in a different season of life, and so am I. Our friendship looks different than it used to. But the fact that we still remember each other, check in on each other, and care about what’s happening in each other’s lives is valuable.

I think that’s the lesson I’m learning in this season of life:

I’m learning to honor the friendships I do have instead of grieving the ones I thought I was supposed to have.

Maybe friendship isn’t always about finding the people who will stand beside you forever. Maybe sometimes it’s about recognizing the people God places in your life for a season—and being grateful that your paths crossed at all. Because even a short chapter can still be a meaningful part of the story. And honestly? I think there’s something beautiful about knowing that we have been a meaningful chapter in someone else’s story too.