Why Girls’ Night Matters

Lately, I feel like I’ve purchased real estate in the Adult World. It has, technically, been a long time since I turned 18, a long time since my parents’ house has been my permanent address. Mortgage, kids, car payments and 401ks… somehow those things have allowed me to pass as an adult, to receive the expected invitations to the predictable adult revelries – you know, the PTA, Girl Scout leader, classroom volunteer and community wine festivals for good causes. And yet in my own head, I was like a favored in-law, not exactly part of the family, not blood related, but still invited to holidays and on the hook for fundraisers. Lately, though… Adult World. You look around at your neighbors and think, They look familiar, but when did this become permanent?

Adult World comes with long hours… depending who you are, long hours in beige cubes with that same Citrix phone you had at your last job, or even longer hours in an office with a view, long hours in the middle of the night with a new baby, a sick child, or midnight hours wondering if the right choice was made about this and that, things we can’t control, or things we could have, should have controlled.

But as we grow older, I think certain things become sweeter, as well. A beautiful morning or a favorite song on the radio can become a little bit of Zen, a snapshot of contentment, more valuable because so many moments rush by, not in malcontent, but just quickly. The moments we can call our own, on our own, are important but just as important is the cohesion and connection of the solid, seasoned friendships of our adult lives. We’ve become a little more selfish with our time at this point, in a judicious way, so the friends we surround ourselves with are those that know us the best, because they’ve been there with us, whether in person or across many miles doesn’t matter. They are our protective circle when the Adult World seems to be bearing down. We don’t always talk, we may go months without seeing each other, but they are our touch points who call us on our own b.s., who support us despite our own b.s., and who, as the saying goes, know us and like us anyway.

My previous blog touched upon the fact that last week was a long one. Despite taking a vow of positivism on Friday morning, it was a long day and I felt pummeled at the end. A bright spot was knowing that the following night was Girls Night In. One of my best friends is moving 1300 miles away, and while there are certainly downsides to that, she’s a miles-don’t-matter friend, which we’ve proven geographically several times before. But it was a terrific reason to have that girls’ night, and I spent some time anticipating it as wine (well, it was sparkling mint mineral water for me – three more weeks ‘til wine – but the vibe was wine) and laughter. Wine and laughter with good friends. We need that. During that Zen snapshot, who we are is always enough. It’s the affirmation of our own personhood at a basic and necessary level. Whatever failings I have, and I have plenty, are already known and accepted and forgiven because that’s what the protective circle does. We’re stronger and better for it. 

Last night, because there were three women sitting around a table, because there was laughter until the point of tears, because there was commonality and cohesion, the week ahead may be good, or may be a bit of a disaster, that Citrix phone may ring itself silly, and school lunches may be forgotten on the kitchen counter, and it will be okay. Adult World may have snuck up on us, but it turns out we’ve been ready for it.

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