Crying to rock music
A sappy reminder about friends and chosen family 💙
It was my mom’s birthday today, and I didn’t really feel the need to honour it in any special way beyond thinking about her often and appreciating the hummingbirds. I’m in the midst of quite a full season of worse, and it’s been keeping me busy in a nice way. I’ve been feeling less inclined to fill my time with idle puttering, resting more intentionally, the whole force of inertia thing – staying in a nice, consistent state of motion but not going so far that I burn out. This time of year can be tricky when you work within the 9-5 construct, carving out your outside time strategically so you actually make it out of the house in daylight.
This afternoon, I squeezed in a stormy sunset walk and wine with a friend. We got to chatting about the ups and downs of hormones and how they pertain to our mental state, mainly how you can feel like an absolute goblin of a person, not worth anyone’s time or energy (not even your own!), when you’re deeply luteal. She shared something that I didn’t know I needed to hear. It was a reminder about the different experiences of “friends who are family”.
Many of us have friends who we consider our chosen family, whether we are close with our actual family or not. In my friend’s experience of having multiple siblings with whom she is close and two parents who are alive and well, she said she sometimes needs to remind herself that not everyone is in the same position. That, for some people without close family (and/or without serious partners), the role of friends who are like family is more literal, almost essential.
Honestly, as one of those people, an only child with one remaining parent – we won’t comment on Tony, we’re going to give him grace, he’s doing his best – it was extremely helpful to hear. A reminder for myself that I don’t have to go it alone. When I am feeling low, it doesn’t always compute that I can (and should) reach out about it – making a point to ask (clearly!) for what we need. (Knowing what we need in the first place!)
In the past, I would just call my mom. Less of the need to have it together, to worry about being a burden. And so it feels extra timely to have had this conversation tonight, on the night of her birthday, while not feeling overly needy or particularly sad. My hormones are levelling out (thank you, cycle 🌕🩸🙏🏻), so I appreciated this conversation in the moment, but then, as I drove home, it replayed in my mind. As it sank in further, I sent her a text to let her know how much it helped. And her thoughtful response is probably better than anything my mom would have said, anyway.
And now I’m sitting on the foot of my bed crying about how much love I have in my life. About how much I miss my mom. About how lucky I am in so many ways. About how awkward it is to cry while listening to a pop-y surfy soft-rock song. About how rich in friendship I am and how much I love my chosen family.
Gosh, life is a wild ride.
If you’re reading this, thank you. If you’re one of my chosen family, I love you. If you’re a stranger, I still love you, and I hope you also have a chosen family who you get to love and be loved by.
xoxo
🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻