When my daughter was born, so much shifted in my life. My schedule, sleep, priorities—basically everything. But my friendships stayed intact. It’s still the same friends I moved to new cities with years ago, the ones I talked through college, breakups, and work dilemmas with.
There’s one big difference though: I’m the only one among them who has a child.
My friends are kind, supportive, and genuinely love my daughter. When we meet, they ask about her, play with her, and I never feel like she’s in the way. Still, there’s a subtle, sometimes hard-to-put-into-words distance. Not because we love each other less—but because a huge part of our lives looks completely different now.
Motherhood brings a flood of questions you only dare to share honestly with your closest confidants. Small worries, big fears, and uncertainties. Is it normal to feel this exhausted? Does anyone else sometimes feel completely lost? What do other moms do in this situation?
These are the talks where we’re missing shared experience.
Of course, I can talk about these things. My friends listen and take me seriously. But there’s a difference between someone listening carefully and someone who truly knows what you’re going through because they’ve been there too. Sometimes I miss that unspoken understanding that happens when two people are in the same boat.
There’s another side to this that sometimes brings guilt: spontaneity.
Back then, a simple message like “Drinks tonight?” was enough, and we were off. Now, that rarely works. There’s bedtime to consider, early mornings, and often arranging childcare.
I can’t just free up any evening, even when I really need a long chat—or if one of my friends needs it.
Sometimes I feel like I’m the more complicated friend.
But my friends never say that. In fact, they often adjust: planning earlier meetups, coming to us, or understanding when I have to cancel. Still, the guilt lingers sometimes.

And yet, there’s something truly valuable in all this.
Thanks to my friends, I still have a space in my life that doesn’t revolve around motherhood. When we talk, it’s about work, books, movies, travel plans, or just everyday little things. Sometimes it’s a relief that not every conversation centers on school drop-offs.
It reminds me that motherhood is a big part of my life—but not the whole story.
I’ve also learned that friendships don’t always stay exactly the same as before. They adapt to life’s changes. Meetups might be less frequent, conversations flow differently, and everything takes more planning.
But that doesn’t make them any less real.
In fact, they might become a bit more intentional. They require more attention and flexibility from both sides. Sometimes I have to accept that my friends don’t always get the challenges of motherhood. Other times, they have to accept that I can’t always make every spontaneous plan.
What helps is openness and honesty. When we can share why something is hard or what we need, it prevents a lot of misunderstandings.
Maybe the biggest lesson is this: friendships don’t work because our lives match perfectly. They work because we’re willing to make space for each other’s different journeys.











