The Power of Female Friendships

By midlife, we’ve all got some baggage when it comes to friendships. We have probably been betrayed and left behind by friends at least once or twice. We might have been gutted by disappointment when people proved untrustworthy. Sometimes the resulting loss and disillusionment can cause us to shrink from further exposure and hide behind walls of solitude. As the years and defeats pile up, we stop trusting our hearts and truth to other people.

When my first marriage started to fall apart, I hardly told a soul. Partly because I could scarcely believe it was happening and I felt like talking about it would make it real. It was also the debilitating shame that came with failing at something so essential and important. I knew I’d be judged and a subject of curiosity—even from people who meant well. I didn’t have the capacity to handle all the questions and try to convince others of platitudes that I didn’t believe, so I stoically kept my pain to myself.

Until I couldn’t anymore. I vividly remember the day I realized that to survive this hellish process I was going to need some help. I had gotten the name of a therapist for my daughter to see, having convinced myself that her parents’ split was going to scar her forever and ruin any chance she had for a happy, loving life. The recommended therapist had to cancel, but she told me to go ahead and see another woman in her office just to start the process. When I met therapist number two, Moira, I was physically shaking with worry and adrenaline. After she listened to my passionate ten-minute rant on how therapy would be my daughter’s salvation and how she needed immediate help or the world would end, Moira quietly studied me for several moments. Then she said: “We need to work on you first.”

I was floored and insulted at this suggestion. Obviously I was upset, I clarified, but I was doing everything I needed to: I went to work, parented, moved to a new house, got a lawyer. I was halfway down my divorce to-do list! I was the epitome of a high-functioning adult trying to do the best thing for her daughter’s mental health. How dare she question my competency!

Moira, with her big blue eyes and frazzled blonde hair, was not in the least bit impressed with my wounded assertions. She asked me a simple question: “How do you take care of yourself mentally?” The top of my head blew off. I literally had no answer. It had never occurred to me before that I needed self-care like that. In a very calm and straightforward way she explained that, someday soon, I would crash. I could not sustain my old stiff-upper-lip attitude in this new reality. She said that trying to do everything by myself was obviously making me physically and mentally ill. She said that the best way for me to help my daughter—really the ONLY way—was to get help myself.

Somehow, she got through to me. I believed her. For the first time, I acknowledged that I needed other people—specifically other women—to survive this period. Our conversation that day changed my life. I began to see Moira on a regular basis, and, yes, therapy helped immensely. (I recommend it to everyone, especially those who think they don’t need it.) But I also started to put together a Circle of women—new friends, old friends, professionals, and artists—that I could trust to stand with me in the battles to come. Some of these women were in my life every day and some I could just reach out to when I needed something specific. Some I paid for their support. Some—like writers and musicians—I have never met but in sharing their words and wisdom they have helped to light some very dark passages.

One morning, in the depths of my divorce despair, a colleague who was just an acquaintance pulled me aside in the hall of our office building. She asked me, point blank, if I was getting a divorce. I was in shock. I was not close with this woman at all and no one at work knew what was happening. But she did—because she had been through it and could see the signs. I can only imagine the courage it took for her to reach out to me and offer her friendship. How many times had I thought to do that and convinced myself that it would be unwelcome or overstepping? But her kindness meant everything, and she became part of my Circle. She told me that I would know when the healing had begun because I’d be able to tell the story in my own words, and she was right. To this day, Denise and I are still friends, and every time we’re together she tells me how proud she is to see me flourish.

At the time, it seemed revolutionary that someone saw my pain and wanted to help. I was raised in a family where independence was highly prized. We didn’t ask for assistance. We didn’t air our business in the street. We broke down in private and smiled in public. I’ve had wonderful friends my whole life, but until I had hit rock bottom, I didn’t know how to depend on them. I was the strong one that people came to when they needed assistance—not the other way around. Now, of course, I know better. Everyone needs help at some point. All our lives are better when we can share the load with friends.

I now am many years past the divorce, and I can tell you that creating this Circle not only became my salvation, but it also restored my faith in the power of female friendships. Some of my Circle I’ve known since my twenties, like Jennifer, who lives out of state but will drop everything to book a trip when I’m in need. Some of them I consider my ‘work wives’ and they are the ones I celebrate all the everyday accomplishments with (looking at you Jen P. and Irma). I have ‘mom friends’ like Stephanie, Angie, and Marichele who did school runs when I had to work and welcomed my daughter and I into their family celebrations. A couple of women—Krista and Jill—are my true ‘ride-or-dies’ and I know there’s nothing we wouldn’t do for each other. These women, and others, are part of a vital support system that allows me to the best version of myself. By their unconditional acceptance, they have taught me that friendship is a state of flow in which love is freely given and taken. No one is keeping score in the Circle, and there’s no competition. I am so grateful to each one of them.

I was reminded of all this recently, talking with one of my friends who is going through a divorce of her own. “You were really there for me,” she said. “There were only a few people I could trust with what was happening, and I knew that you had been through it and come out the other side. You gave me a different perspective and hope that life would get better. You gave me books to read and pointers on co-parenting. You were a part of my tribe.”

In her book Becoming, Michelle Obama wrote. “Friendships between women, as any woman will tell you, are built of a thousand small kindnesses…swapped back and forth and over again.” Someone helps me, I help someone else, and so on. This belief is part of the reason that I started this blog: If you have been raised up, you must raise others. How many times have I read a book or a blog post and cried with recognition and relief that someone gets it? Women like Brené Brown, Glennon Doyle, Viola Davis, Adele, Halsey, Joanna Goddard and so many more have helped millions of women just by sharing their stories.

When I turned 50 this year I thought: it’s my turn to reach out in a big way. It’s my turn to tell my truth. Every woman should have the opportunity to be encircled and uplifted, and I want to do my part to help. From today on, I hope to be part of your circle.