My history of friends, or lack thereof

I never had a problem making friends. In kindergarten I knew children from my neighborhood, so I wasn't walking into the classroom that first day feeling like a complete stranger. In the second grade our school district changed and my grade school was in my tiny town where only local kids went to it. (We were a county school system.) This of course meant that I saw the same boys and girls every day for the next 3 years. In 5th grade, all the kids from the other towns in the county came to our school for the year, prepping us for the move to junior high, at another school in another town. New kids meant new friends.

I played sports, both in school and over the summer. I was in all the clubs. I was a social butterfly. I was by no means "popular," though. I was from a poor family, and when you live in a small town (population 850), everyone knows all your secrets. After second grade I gained a bunch of weight and had to get glasses. I was not an adorable adolescent. Yet I still had lots of friends. Because of occasional teasing, I developed a very tough side. I had a "smart mouth," and many times would speak before I thought. And yet, I still had lots of friends.

As I grew older and more life opportunities came our way, my friends and I developed new friends and shed some old ones. It's inevitable. Some of my best friends ('cause when you're young, all friends are best friends) became just friends. No more BFF, or BF, just F. But that was ok too, because I still had lots of other friends.

In college I lost touch with most friends from high school. I found a few really good friends, and then joined a sorority and gained 30 "sisters." It was a great time. I'm not saying that just because I was in this group of women that we were all friends; there were plenty that I didn't like at all. But again, I had lots of friends. I was a theater major. I developed my theater friends. I made friends with the gays, and then I had my gay friends. I had my work friends from Lowe's. I had friends coming out the wazoo! There was always something going on, and I was never alone.

Then I graduated and moved back home and in with my mother and her boyfriend, who is now my step dad. They had moved to a town 40 minutes from where I grew up. I knew no one. I had to drive 30 minutes to hang out with my friends from high school, who at this point consisted of Troy and Dianna. I got a job in a neighboring town at a gas station and thanks to a theater friend from college I made a few new friends in this new town. I started to hang out with 2 regularly - Christie and Amery. We were constantly out together. We karaoke together, we went to summer softball games together; Amery and I played on the same team one summer.

I started dating Brady. This meant I was now hanging out with his friends too. By this time, I was in beauty school and had friends from there that I hung out with too. We were an on-again, off-again couple. After a year of this, I got pregnant. Of course, this meant that I wasn't able to do the things I had been doing. No more late nights at the bar, no more sports. Unbeknownst to me, this now meant that I'd have no more friends.

I had quit beauty school and started substitute teaching, which I liked much more and one day I hope to teach my own classroom. I had quit the gas station. I lived in a different town than those people I had called friends. No one came to visit, but they were always asking me to "come into town" to see them. With the exception of Troy and Dianna, I only had my family and Brady. A few other friends lived far away - no occasional get-togethers with them to catch up on old times. I was basically alone.

One month after Ella was born, we moved to St. Joseph. A new town in a new area and we didn't know a single person. This was so depressing. I gained back all of the baby weight I had lost in that first month. There was nothing to do. It was November, so I couldn't take my newborn to the park to socialize. No one came down to visit except my family. I was the only one of my friends who had a child, so now we didn't really have much in common.

I put Ella in daycare and got a job thinking it'd help me make friends. I had never had problems in the past making friends. That plan didn't work. I decided to stay home with E so that I wouldn't miss out on her major life accomplishments. I got pregnant with Grayson. At this time I still only had a few friends. Seriously. I could count them on one hand. Sure, I had "Friends" on Myspace, but really, most of them were acquaintances at this point.

I joined a mom's group thinking I'd have no problem making friends. Again, I had never really had problems in the past making friends. And I thought for sure this would be easy in a group of women who had most of the same issues and daily routines that I had. I've been part of this group for about a year and I think I can count the number of friends I have on one had. I don't even need all my fingers. I don't know why I set my expectations so high. Just like in school, there are cliques. I'm not saying I want to be part of a clique, but it'd be nice to have a circle of friends. I don't have that right now. I occasionally get together with people for playdates, but because of Brady's schedule and until recently the lack of babysitter, I don't get to do any adult-only activities. When I do have a chance to talk to other mom's, we get so easily distracted by our kids that our conversations are in pieces.

I'd like to think that I'm a great friend. I'm nice and giving, I'm funny and considerate. I used to be smart, but the kids have sucked away most of my braincells. I am one of those people who believe that if you are going to be friends with another person, put 100% into it. If you can't do that, then what's the point? I return phone calls and I invite people over. But when I am the only person doing this it makes me wonder: Do these people really want to be my friend or are they just being polite? I feel like I have a lot to offer as a friend, but no one gets to see this because no one has given me a chance. It's really depressing to live 2 hours from my family and they few friends I have back home. It's very depressing to live here, feeling so alone. I just keep trying and trying to fit in somewhere. I'm 30 years old! This shouldn't be so hard!

I realize that this whole post sounds like, "Oh, poor me!" But isn't that what my blog is for? To express myself - good things and bad things? So if you're reading this, don't take it too personally. I'm sure you don't fall into that category of "not really a friend, more of an acquaintance."