I’ve had the pleasure of forming friendships throughout various stages of my life. From childhood pals to college roommates and connections made through my career and motherhood, each one holds a unique place in my heart. I’m thankful for social media, which allows me to stay connected with everyone. A simple “like” shows I’m thinking of them, and we don’t need to put in a lot of effort. A quick text or an occasional coffee is enough for most, especially since, as a busy mom of four, I don’t have the bandwidth for a demanding friendship.
However, my closest friend, Sarah, is the most high-maintenance of them all. We were college roommates and have shared countless experiences. I supported her through her wedding during our junior year, her divorce, and even her second marriage. I’ve been there through job changes, family drama, and even a trip to Vegas for her third wedding. Our friendship spans 25 years, but she asks far too much from me, and I can’t meet her demands anymore.
Even though she’s been married multiple times, she has no children and has never wanted any. Her life revolves around pampering herself, her dogs, and her husband. She splurges on designer handbags, luxury cars, and trendy city living. Her travel experiences are enviable, while I’m juggling my four kids and a minivan. Our lifestyles couldn’t be more different, and she doesn’t grasp that.
I’m not driving around for hours like she is, and I can’t answer her calls whenever she wants to chat. Often, I see her calling and send it straight to voicemail. I’m busy cleaning, helping with homework, or driving to practices. I can’t afford to spend my valuable time listening to what sometimes feels like trivial complaints. I know it sounds harsh, but sometimes it is just that. I’m sorry your manicure isn’t perfect, but does that really warrant a phone call? A quick text with “that stinks” should suffice, but for her, it’s not enough.
She fails to understand why I don’t get my nails done regularly, or why I can’t drop everything to join her. She feels like I’ve “lost myself” and let myself go. The reality is that my priorities have shifted. I used to enjoy getting my nails done when I worked outside the home, but now I prefer to spend that money on my kids. A mom’s priorities differ from someone without children, and she doesn’t get that.
“How come you haven’t tried the new restaurants or seen the latest movies?” she asks. Well, date nights aren’t frequent for me. I haven’t finished “Virgin River” because I don’t have the time to binge-watch. She can jet off to Mexico for five days, while I find a chance to go to Target alone on a Thursday night. Our lives are vastly different, yet she doesn’t see it.
Recently, during a family beach vacation, I received a call from her on the very first day. I texted to check if everything was alright, and she just wanted to chat. I told her we were busy at the beach and would catch up when we got back. Two days later, she FaceTimed me three times while we were mini-golfing. When I called her back, it turned out she just missed me. It felt overwhelming, as though I was not allowed to enjoy myself without her.
To be fair, I do call her, but I make sure I’m in a position to give her my full attention. I want to keep up with her life, but I can’t handle multiple calls a day. I don’t even check in with my husband that much!
I understand her life hasn’t been easy, and she gets lonely, but I can’t relate. When you have five people depending on you, there’s little time to feel sorry for yourself. Unless it’s 3 a.m. and you’re lying awake, your mind racing, you don’t have time to dwell on loneliness. She has ample time for reflection, and that’s tough for her.
I don’t pity her because she has a great life. She made choices that led her to this point, just as I did when I chose motherhood over a more traditional career. I don’t regret my choices and wouldn’t change them. I refrain from burdening her with my daily struggles because I know she can’t relate, but I wish she could extend the same understanding to me.
Despite everything, Sarah is my best friend, and I would do anything for her. In a true emergency, I’d drop everything to be there for her. She was in my wedding and was the first to visit when my daughter was born, bringing a giant Starbucks and a receiving blanket. I celebrated her 40th birthday with a cake from her favorite bakery and cared for her when she was sick. She is incredibly important to me.
I cherish our moments together, whether it’s dinner or the annual pedicure, but I wish that was enough for her. A simple text to say “hey” sometimes is all I can offer.
I want her in my life forever and hope we can continue to share the best and worst moments. Ultimately, there’s no one I’d rather talk to than her, but I can’t spare 45 minutes at 7:30 a.m. on a Tuesday to chat.
Further Reading
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Summary
This article reflects on a friendship where one person feels overwhelmed by the demands of a high-maintenance friend. The author discusses how their lifestyles differ significantly, leading to a disconnect in expectations and communication. Despite deep affection for her friend, the author struggles to meet her needs while balancing the demands of motherhood.
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