As I navigate adulthood, I often daydream about placing a personal ad—not for romance, but in search of a best friend. Someone who shares my unique experiences and perspectives. Sure, I can find fellow moms in their forties to connect with, some even living right in my neighborhood. However, as I start adding details about my life—twenty-five years of marriage, two young sons, my liberal views, being a military spouse, and writing erotic romance—I realize I’ve drifted away from the typical crowd. And if by chance someone can relate to my life, my writing career usually sends them packing.
I cherish the diverse friendships I’ve cultivated over the years, ranging from energetic twenty-somethings navigating early parenthood to seasoned authors and editors I’ve met at writing conferences and through social media. The latter has allowed me to reconnect with long-lost friends from my past. Yet, while some of my high school peers are celebrating their grandchildren, I’m immersed in discussions about Montessori schools and college savings plans. Other military spouses are sharing their woes about long deployments while my husband is approaching retirement. Our conversations often revolve around balancing our children’s education with planning for our later years.
Since childhood, I’ve always danced to my own rhythm. Growing up in a bookless household, I became an avid reader and aspiring writer early on. I questioned societal norms and expectations, inspired by the spirit of Gloria Steinem, which led me to believe that I could forge my own path at any age. Yet, despite all these choices, I often feel like a solitary figure in my corner of the world—blessed with many things but missing that one friend who truly understands my journey.
In my quest for connection, I find myself without a close-knit group of like-minded friends. The term “BFF,” which feels outdated, hardly captures my reality. I’m not sure what women my age are supposed to wear or what social gatherings entail. My social life is often intertwined with my kids’ schedules, meaning “girls’ night” usually turns into a coffee chat with one friend. I won’t be embarking on wild escapades in Vegas for my fiftieth birthday; instead, I’ll likely host a backyard barbecue while my kids enjoy elementary school.
My life has unfolded in unexpected ways. I was a diligent student who took twelve years to complete my undergraduate degree and didn’t earn my master’s until I was forty. I often found myself as the oldest in the classroom, sometimes even older than the professor. I had my children later in life but married young at 23, and my writing journey began long before I could even write in cursive. The most profound moment of feeling old came during my pregnancy, yet I often feel youthful amidst the world of LEGO blocks and family game nights.
I embody the idea that individuals can create their own lives, regardless of age. I frequently encourage others to pursue their dreams—yes, you can return to school at forty; yes, it’s okay to take a break for self-care. I strive to model this freedom for my children, urging them to think outside the box and carve their own paths.
While I recognize that my way isn’t the only way, it feels authentic to me, and that’s enough. I wouldn’t change my life, but I still yearn to find someone who resonates with my experiences.
If you’re interested in more about navigating parenthood and self-insemination, check out this excellent resource for pregnancy considerations. For those exploring at-home insemination options, we recommend visiting CryoBaby for reliable kits. And for further insights into home insemination, you can read more here.
In summary, while adulthood brings many rewards, it also presents unique challenges, particularly in forming deep friendships. My life is a tapestry woven from diverse experiences, and though I feel somewhat isolated in my journey, I remain hopeful about finding that special friend who truly understands me.