Finding my Tribe

When my oldest son, Elliott, was born, my husband and I were newcomers to a tiny town in Illinois. While we were welcomed warmly into the community, I had no close friends and I found my days to be long and lonely. Motherhood was isolating for me. Having moved from bustling Chicago, it was a bit of a shock to find the nearest shopping district to be nearly an hour away. I needed something to do and more importantly, people with whom I could chat about the daily pleasures and pains of life as a new parent.

I found that a local church in town hosted a “mom’s day out” a few times a month. We’d leave our babies and small children in the care of kindly grandmas who ran the nursery and have our bodies and minds to ourselves for a few hours. For this I was truly grateful.

The other women were kind but I still felt out of step. For one, I wasn’t religious. In our town, you were very much defined by your church and your identity as a Christian. For some reason I didn’t feel confident enough to say what I felt: that I thought it was great that their beliefs helped them as mothers and wives and women but it didn’t work for me.

I didn’t relate to the discussions of how Jesus got them through the challenges of parenthood. The week that we sat down and wrote out lists of how we could make our husbands relax when they came home from work just about did me in.

Yes, my husband worked hard and needed appreciation. But after a day full of changing diapers and having nobody to talk to except my crying baby, I often counted the minutes until my husband was home to pick him up and give me a few minutes to take off my mom hat. I felt embarrassed to say this to them.

Every week that I went to the meeting and every friend that I made was another moment that I felt like I was playing a role on the stage. I don’t blame them for this. I just didn’t have anything in common with them other than having given birth. My sensibilities were ill-matched to the women I met.

They were incredibly sweet to me and I appreciated the companionship but I was in a bad place. I didn’t really have girlfriends and wondered if I ever would again. How do friendships fit into our lives once we have our own families?

I found the answer, at least for me, once we moved back to Des Moines. Again, even though I grew up here, my childhood friends had moved on and I found myself starting over.

This time, however, I found Meetup, an online site that hosts groups of like-minded people. You can find those who gather for everything from parenthood and sports to gardening and chess.

I took a gamble and joined a few groups for moms. Still, I was leery. I wanted to have friends but I didn’t want our friendships to be defined solely by the fact that we were mothers. I could only talk about diaper bags and potty training for so long, and I wanted to have friends who were at the same phase in their lives but still had other interests. Was a mom group even really for me?

At my first meetup, sitting in the play area of Valley West Mall, I found my answer. I met Sarah, who had two adorable twin girls. I hesitantly struck up a conversation with her and felt relief wash over me as we so easily moved from talk of our babies to everything else that was, well, not babies. She has become like a sister to me. Over time I made more and more friends who I have grown to love.

We eventually made our own group, organizing ourselves so that we’d always have an easy way to reach out to each other. We plan play dates and dinners out. We read books and knit and drink too much wine. We gather our families together and celebrate. We have become a tribe of sorts and, most importantly, I can be real with them.

It took a lot of digging to find my girls but I finally did. With them, I am a better wife and mother but that isn’t the reason that I needed them. I needed them to help them understand who I am now. I appreciate this incredible gift every day.

Over the weekend our merry band of mamas stormed Omaha, leaving our husbands with our children for a few days. We ate and drank a lot. We danced like nobody was watching. We played childish games in our hotel rooms and laughed until we cried. Then we came home, excited to see our families again.

So, mamas, if you want to get your groove back, it can be done. Find your tribe, it is out there.