For some reason entirely unknown to me, I had convinced myself at some point that one makes all the friends they will ever have in their youth. That the friendships I carried into adulthood from adolescence and college were the only ones that I needed or that mattered. You can imagine, then, that when these friendships started to fall apart, I felt untethered, abandoned- like I would never have that kind of meaningful connection with another woman again. I mourned the loss of these friendships, I grieved as if there had been a death; and I guess there had been in a way. The end of relationships are never easy, romantic or otherwise. But these were women that had seen me through both the hardest and most joyous seasons of my life. They knew me inside out, heart and soul, and I thought what made what we had so special was that they loved me anyway, and I loved them anyway. The feeling of inadequacy and betrayal was a pain from which I thought I would never recover.

But I did recover. And not only did I recover, but the seemingly unbearable loss of those friendships made room for new ones. Friendships I created and nurtured as an adult woman, not as a child. Friendships I likely would have never found had I not lost the others. That is not to say that I don’t still grieve the loss of the friendships of my youth, boy do I ever. They are intrinsically linked with nearly all of my fond memories from that era of my life, and I cannot think back on those times without also thinking of them. The women with whom I transformed from a child to a woman with, the ones who would hold my hair back, and I theirs, after we’d had a bit too much fun, the friends who witnessed me fall in love for the last time and for whom I was a bridesmaid at their wedding, whose first babies were held and cuddled as we navigated this entirely new season of motherhood together. But years after the death of these friendships, some of which I am still uncertain as to why they ended, the sting has subsided. I can finally look back on those memories with a sense of quiet sadness as well as fondness, rather than despair. Because no matter how the friendship ended, those women still left an indelible mark on me and the woman that I am today.

Much to my surprise, it is possible to make new friends as a woman rapidly careening toward 40. In fact, the connections I have made with women as an adult have leveled up what I knew of friendship in the first place. Most of my friends now are in similar seasons of life with me. Almost all of us have school-aged children, so we understand the sheer exhaustion that comes with existing and raising happy, healthy kids in this phase. Many of us are married and understand the intricate web of marriage and wifedom. We have houses, jobs, bills, and an endless, running list of responsibilities that never seems to get any shorter, no matter how many boxes we check off of it. But we also have dreams and strong convictions, and a commitment to continue to nurture these friendships, no matter how batshit crazy life gets. One of the best things about making friends as an adult is that most people are pretty well-set by then on what their values are, making it so much easier to find friends who share those values and convictions. They are understanding when you’re in a particularly rocky spot and you need to withdrawal from the world and hibernate for a bit. They are the ones I want to celebrate good news with, and to whom I turn for comfort when life takes a particularly large shit on us. The ones that stimulate my brain and make my belly ache from laughter. You are my happy place.

Of all the things for which I am grateful in this life, this collection of weird, hysterically funny, brilliant, enduring, revolutionary, surly, cheerful, strong, stunning women that I call my friends is at the top of the list. The memories we have made and continue to make are ones that I will cherish always. That adult sleepover the book club had a few years ago and that witchy photoshoot? Core memories. Floating in the pool with music blaring in the background while we laugh for hours? Burned into the brain. Our cozy girl getaway where four of us rented out a house for three days wherein we proceeded to nap, read, color, play games, craft, watch Bridgerton, go out to dinner, and soak in the hot tub? The most restorative couple of days of my whole life. We may not all have known each other for decades, but the connection and memories we have made together are no less deep and meaningful for it.

So cheers to us, the women of the past, the present, and the future. No matter where our relationship stands today, I am always and forever rooting for each one of you. Thank you for the impact you’ve had on my life, and for stepping aside so that I could experience a new and beautiful kind of friendship. The kind that grows *with* us, rather than outgrowing us. Because that kind of friendship? That is the greatest gift of all.