Two weeks ago, I made a new friend on Substack. It started out as a casual conversation. We sent some messages back and forth throughout our busy day. But one evening, we went from sending text messages and restacking notes to hours of talking, laughing, and sharing on the phone. I didn’t expect it to become such a meaningful conversation—especially since I was in the middle of making dinner and cleaning up my kids’ mess while battling pregnancy fatigue.
At first, he seemed at peace. But as the night went on, loneliness crept in. Memories from his past seemed to bother him, and I could tell he was trying to distract himself instead of facing what was on his heart. I recognized that feeling. Sometimes we just want to be “okay” again, even if that means filling the silence with anything else.
Some moments were light. We swapped jokes, shared little stories, even read poetry to each other. Other times, we sat quietly, each in our own world, comfortable in the silence. And then there were the deeper moments, when we asked each other questions about life and how we see the world. I’ll admit, I felt embarrassed when I asked him the same question two or three times. But asking again helped me really soak in who he is and what matters to him.
What surprised me most was how natural it felt. Neither of us tried to “fix” the other. We listened and allowed the conversation to naturally unfold. He learned a little more about me, and I learned a little more about him.
The truth is, progress in friendship doesn’t always happen in big, dramatic conversations. Sometimes it’s built quietly, in small exchanges, in moments of honesty mixed with laughter. That night reminded me that listening goes both ways. He supported me, too, when I was feeling down and lonely. He took the time to let me vent about both my struggles and my mommy wins.
What I love most about this friendship is that we practice being judgment-free with each other. We ask deeper questions, sometimes out of curiosity and sometimes to help one another focus on growth. But we also leave room for the positive things, like the kiddos accomplishments and his growing publication.
I don’t know where this friendship will go, but I do know that being present for each other, even in small ways, makes life feel less lonesome and stressful. And maybe that’s what we all need more of—not just advice or solutions, but real connection, a listening ear, and someone willing to sit with us in both the silence and the laughter.
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