shared history & new chapters

I remember how we met, but I don't remember when it changed. Friendship is funny like that, isn't it? You meet someone, and you don't know much of anything about the other person, but at some point, you know so many of the things. You know who they truly are, and they, you. I can't go back and pinpoint when the shift occurred, but I know that the friends I moved away from were my tribe.

Whether we first were introduced while

you were poring over your wedding planning binder, or

you were nursing your little one amid the wildness of a New Year's Eve party, or 

you and I were both watching our classes on the playground, or 

you were the "cool mom" holding court at playgroup and making everyone laugh, or 

you were pushing the double stroller of which I was jealous and used as a first topic of conversation, or 

you and I were on Facebook because we were both going to have a new kindergartner at the same school, or 

you and I were on Facebook because a mutual friend thought we'd have a lot in common, or 

you were a student intern turned admired colleague, or 

you and I had dinner with a mutual friend, 

we went from that initial moment to many more shared experiences that made you an integral part of my life. And that's just a handful of you.

Talk about good, bad, and ugly? You've seen them all with me, and then some.

You know the me that I am today, but you've known the mes I've been on the way to getting to this point. You've helped influence the me I've become.

And here I stand at the beginning of this new chapter in the story of my life, and a key plot point is the fact that I have to start over in the friendship arena. I'm desperately missing the feeling that comes with spending time with someone who truly knows you, someone with whom you have a shared history. The comfort of knowing it's okay to be you, that might be at the heart of it. In meeting new folks, I think I've been keeping a part of myself on mute, as I am more conscious than ever about how I appear. I feel awkward and insecure again, and the last thing I need now is a return to that exhausting adolescent mentality!

People have been so nice here in our new community, and meeting other parents has been a whirlwind of new names and faces. But I know that life is busy, and most people don't have the time or energy to seek out the new folks and try to bring them into their social fold. I get it, and I know that the onus has to be on me to try to make these connections. I know I should be looking at this time right now as nothing but possibilities, for new beginnings of what could grow into more deep friendships. There have been one or two bright spots, and for that I'm hopeful, but damn if I don't miss the hell out of my old crew.

a (partial) cast of characters, if there ever was one