I swore this would never happen to *my* friendships (but it did)
How naive of me.
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When I turned 27, I had about 15 of my closest girl pals stay overnight with me in the penthouse of a city centre hotel to celebrate my birthday. It was unnecessarily bougie – we wore colourful wigs (see above) drank cocktails, played music, danced, ate pizza and cake and had an absolute ball. Coordinating it was simple. A straightforward matter of texting everyone and telling them to keep the date free.
And it wasn’t even a significant birthday, either. A few texts, the chance of a drink and a dance, a reminder the day before and there was full, unconditional attendance. No one even balked at the idea of a sleepover.
That was my late 20s. That was before everyone needed a melatonin tablet, an eye mask and completely silent darkness to fall asleep, before marathon training meant a 6am start, before a toddler with Hand, Foot and Mouth rendered an attendee unavailable. It was the best of times.
I remember thinking, that night – how do so many of the 30-, 40-, 50- and 60-year-old women in my periphery seem to have so few good ‘old’ friends by comparison? Where are my mother’s college pals? Why doesn’t my aunt see her bestie from her first job, even though she still talks about her? Where had they all gone?
That birthday night felt like actual magic. It felt special in a way that makes you just wonder at the beauty of life. So it seemed bizarre to me that people older than me hadn’t cherished and pursued and protected those invaluable relationships, and retained the magic that those bonds created. I vowed, internally, never to let that happen to me and my friendships.
But of course… It was inevitable.
I am the 30-something I pondered about that night. At 36, I love my life, my beautiful family, my home, and am aware of my fortune and privilege. But that friendship magic? It’s had to… pivot. A slight understatement.
For example; Four friends and I bought Hamilton tickets in mid-2023. The show was in late 2024, a casual 18 months later. Out of five of us, only three ended up being able to go that night. With a year and a half of notice. Each of us who did go had jobs/kids/early mornings to rush home to – not even a whiff of going for a drink afterwards to discuss which Schuyler sister we liked best.
So now, when I look into my future and see my friendships, I finally understand. Life happens.
Not for want of trying…
Taking a test sample of friends, I’ll talk about my eight bridesmaids (don’t ask, it just worked, it was brilliant, they are all superstars). Out of the eight, all of whom once lived in Dublin city or its suburbs – one now lives in Louth, one in Kildare, one in Offaly, one in Meath. The ones who live in Dublin don’t live close to each other. We went from zero children to eight children in the last few years alone. Three have gotten married, one is engaged. Four have mortgages, two have dogs. All eight are working full time jobs.
We WANT to see each other, and often. We miss each other terribly. Our Whatsapp groups are filled with ‘It’s been too long!’, ‘when are we meeting up?’ and ‘I feel like I haven’t a clue what’s going on with you!’ messages – friends from all corners and all proximities bemoaning the fact that we can’t get our shit together enough to organise a lunch, never mind a weekend away or any real catch up time.
This is a mere cross-section of what goes on between late twenties and mid-30s for many people – all of a sudden, marriages, children, work and locations pull apart the fabric of close female friendships, and while our Whatsapps might be hopping, our face time is dwindling. It’s no one’s fault, and believe me it’s not through lack of effort or desire to get together, it’s just a fact.
Different life stages also cause ruptures in a previously solid friendship’s surface. Not everyone gets married, not everyone has kids, and often those who have kids in common grow closer or find new parent pals who can identify with the very unique struggles of parenting. One of my closest and most important friendships now was galvanised by the main thing we have in common: small children. It isn’t all focused on that (in fact, when the kids aren’t there we barely even remember we have any) but it did solidify in various soft play centres around Dublin.
Just when you need your female friendships most, life starts handing out responsibilities like a Las Vegas croupier. Sick children, childcare problems, ageing parents, illness, work stress, financial pressure… The weight of it all is crushing, and sometimes the last thing you feel like doing after a long week of adulting is get into the car and drive for 90 minutes to see your friend for half an hour and then drive the 90 minutes home again. Friends are, and remain, your chosen family. But often, your literal family – a newly formed family, in many cases – will have to take centre stage.