In the last eleven years since high school, I’ve moved eight times to four different states, three of which I’ve lived in more than once. In those moves I’ve made friends from around the globe. Some have lasted the span of adulthood, others have not. There are a few with whom I’ve had the fortunate experience of rekindling our friendship after years of silence. Some I’ve lived mere miles from, and haven’t made contact yet.
Many of them I’m connected to via social media and understand that that is where our relationship will live and die. Then there’s my one pen pal with whom I’ve only communicated via old-fashioned snail mail letters. I’m not sure we’ll ever meet, but I’ll always treasure the friendship that started so many years ago as twelve-year-old girls who responded to an article in a teen magazine.
In all my travels and friendships won or lost on the battlefield of life, I’ve learned that you have to know who your true friends are. At (almost) thirty, I’m discovering a depth to myself that I wish I’d known ten years ago! Over the last year, I’ve realized how precious those relationships are that challenge, encourage, confront, and affirm who you are and what you’re about. I’ve narrowed the scope of my true friends to a handful. And I’m surprised and who isn’t there.
I had an amazing experience last Christmas. I was fatigued from sleep deprivation, riding in the backseat of my best friend’s car, trying my best to catch a few winks, and I overheard the two of them talking. In my semi-conscious state, I heard, “Yeah, it’s nice to have our ‘Becca’ back.” That one statement changed my life. Suddenly I realized I’d been running from myself all these years, trying to change me to fit some kind of mold. Freedom really began to settle in. With these two women, my best friends for almost seventeen years, I didn’t have to hide, pretend, or be anyone else, but me.
At that moment, I knew that the changes that had been occurring in me in recent months were warranted, and I was finally becoming the best version of myself—a balance between who I wanted to be and who I really was. Suddenly, I wasn’t ashamed, I was known, appreciated, even celebrated, and absolutely, unconditionally loved and accepted by two people who will be there come hell or high water.
Similarly, another friend I grew up with who lives about forty minutes from my current home, has marked my heart for all eternity. She and I have been friends for twenty-two years, through many moves and difficulties and seasons of life. When she had her son last September, I knew I couldn’t miss that moment, regardless what it took! So after getting off work, I drove five hours to Dallas and walked in minutes after the nurses whisked him away to the nursery. Lying in the delivery room, exhausted, she looked so beautiful. And when she saw me, tiredly reached out her arms, and called me to her, I knew I’d made the right decision. No amount of inconvenience could have kept me from that embrace and the tears we shed together at that moment.
Today, I shared an enlightening conversation with one of them. Considering making another move closer to our hometown, I talked with her about the hopeful prospects for the move, and that it might be sooner than later if all works out. As I talked, I found the real reason for wanting to move back. In eleven years of being away, the two of them have supported me, encouraged me, missed me, and asked me to come home more times than I can count, yet I needed to find fulfillment in accomplishments and the pursuit of happiness.
Finally, I see that they’ve “sown” me into my vision and adventurous self, hoping that one day I’d be happy, and return home. I left a large whole in the hearts of my best friends. Their voices are ringing so clearly in my ears, “Bec, it’s time to come home. We need you.” No longer is it, “we want you.” It’s “we need you.” The dynamics have changed. We have changed. We’ve grown up. We’re not kids anymore. We’re women; good, strong, intelligent, vivacious Southern women. There’s a maturity that we share at this season of our lives that is allowing us to have healthy conversations and find peace midst our circumstances. There’s a longing for depth of relationship that we’ve not yet discovered.
