I don’t have many girlfriends. Scratch that. I don’t have any girlfriends — at least not locally where I live. My five closest girlfriends each live far away and our visits are few and far between.
All five of these ladies were in my bridal party (along with my sister, sister-in-law, and aunt, who was like a second mother to me and had never been a bridesmaid until then). All five of them have been in my life for over thirty years — and one for over forty. These woman have been with me through every stage of life, whether it’s in person, by phone, or through text, and continue to be by my side … even now while I’m struggling.
I’ve had other friends at different points in my life, but none of them stuck around like these ladies. I don’t blame them, or me, for that matter. Like the saying goes, some friends come into your life for a reason (like Emily), and some for a season (like Jeannie and Liz, Melissa and Amy, or Val and Annette). But these five — Sharon, Carin, Kerin, Carin, Caitlin, and Kerry (and yes, I see the similarities with their names!) — are here for a lifetime, and I couldn’t love them more.
Sharon (my childhood bestie), Carin (my high school bestie), and Kerin (my grown up bestie) all know each other because we grew up in the same town. But the last time all four of us were together was ten years ago in Florida, celebrating our 40th birthdays. [I’ve seen each of them separately (or as a couple) a few times since then, but not all together.] Then in February, Sharon and Carin surprised me for my 50th birthday (Kerin FaceTimed in). It was as if no time had passed and it was just a regular Saturday in 2022. It was amazing and made my month.
Kerry and Caitlin, on the other hand, are my college besties and former roommates. The three of us haven’t been together since our 20-year college reunion in 2014, which is also the last time I saw Caitlin, who lives in California. [I last saw Kerry in 2019.] Needless to say, eight years is much too long, so when Caitlin texted that she was going to be on the East Coast for her niece’s graduation last week and wanted to take a side trip to Philly to see me and Kerry, I jumped at the chance … until my anxiety set in.
Here’s the thing: Anxiety is a bitch. She’s a thief — of joy, moments, and connections. As I wrote in a recent post, I’ve been struggling for the past year and a half with both my physical and mental health. So much so that I barely leave my house … even for people I love, which makes me feel guilty on top of sad. It’s a vicious cycle.
All week long, I struggled. I wanted so badly to spend time with Kerry and Caitlin, two of my most favorite people in the world. But my anxiety was taking over, running shotgun to every plan that was made. I tried all my coping methods — deep breathing, meditation, movement, reflection — and ultimately settled on honesty. I texted them both the day before and explained how my head and heart were in conflict. I spoke openly about my fears and anxiety, my sadness and dismay. I tried my best to explain it to them and, not surprisingly, I was met with compassion, understanding, love, and most of all, acceptance. This is why they are my besties. They have my back when I’m up, and, more importantly, when I’m down.
Ultimately, I decided to go because I really wanted to go. As I drove to meet them Saturday morning, I said aloud, alone in my car, “Fuck you, anxiety. You’re not winning this time.” And you know what? She didn’t. With that first group hug, my anxiety dissipated; my body and mind knew that I was safe. This outing was exactly what I didn’t even know I needed: Girlfriend therapy. A few uninterrupted hours with two of my favorite people; a day sou-affirming day filled with unconditional support, real connection, and pure joy.
Was it wild and crazy like our college days? Not by any stretch. We are 50 years old, after all. We spent the day getting cryofacials and enjoying a delicious lunch, the highlight of which was trying to “share” a bowl of carrot ginger vegan soup — which, btw, isn’t easy and is not recommended, but did produce plenty of giggles and a funny memory. We traded stories about our aging parents, talked about nagging health issues, spoke about future plans and goals, and reminisced about various people and events from our younger days … just like all good middle-aged women do. Oh, and we laughed. A lot. To the point of tears and maybe even a little bladder leakage (again, 50).
At the end of the day, I was sad that our time together was over, but happy that it happened — and that I pushed through my anxiety. I may not have a local tribe or squad or girl gang to hang with on the daily, but I do have my soul sisters. All five of them. And I wouldn’t trade any of them for anything because they feed my soul and nourish my heart — even if from a distance most days.
-LJDT
