Facebook is great for so many things. Keeping in touch with family. Seeing pictures of my friends’ cute kids. Watching video after video of babies and puppies and other things that make me cry.
And then, at other times, it really kind of sucks. Especially for sensitive gals like me.
I was scanning my newsfeed the other morning when I came across a bunch of photos. Photos of a group of mom friends. We had met when we were all on our first maternity leave. When everything was so new and our lives were laced with uncertainty and nervousness. We bonded during that time–over breastfeeding and bottle feeding, nap schedules and first foods. A bond that I felt was special and strong and sweet.
And then I came across the photos. My group of mom friends had a party–and I wasn’t invited.
It stung. Actually, it hurt and it was embarrassing. Obviously, there was something about me. I was either forgettable or, even worse, someone they didn’t want at the party. Someone they would like to avoid.
And I now realize I shouldn’t have–but I went to Facebook for support. I posted a passive aggressive status update and knew someone would ask me what was wrong. They did. I explained. I was flooded with support and my wounds were healed. I guess I acted a bit immature. I guess, like most of us, I’m flawed and can’t avoid showing it at times.
The reality is—it hurt a lot. Mainly because I thought my mom friends and I really got each other. Surviving the early days of motherhood is sometimes only possible when you have a few great friends. Or, at least that was my experience.
Mom friends know how you feel. What you’re thinking. They feel the same guilt. They have the same worries. When your kid is sick, when you’re not sure what milestone they’re supposed to be reaching, when you can’t get breastfeeding to work or potty training is not happening. Mom friends just know. Their advice and help and friendship saw me through the often lonely days of maternity leave.
They witnessed me during my less-than-perfect moments. I showed them my flaws. We were authentic. And we liked each other anyway. We talked about our lives. We saw each other through marriages breaking up. Held one another up when there were health scares. Or new and nerve-wracking diagnoses.
We chatted over coffee. Shared books. Told our birth stories a million times. Talked about our boobs. Our bodies. And we laughed until our sides felt like they may split and our cheeks hurt.
And now. Now I know they’re doing that without me. And whether it was intentional or just an oversight, I can’t help but be hurt. Really hurt.
I read something once that said that finding a mom friend is a lot like dating. You can be a touch insecure at times. Rejection is painful. But finding a great one is an awesome experience. So maybe that’s why I’m having a hard time letting this one go. The sting is lingering because I thought we shared something. An unbreakable bond that would make them want to include me. That wouldn’t allow them to forget me.
Maybe it’s a little bit of the ‘fear of missing out’ thing – or maybe it’s just my sensitive side.
But whether this is actually the end of our friendship, or just a bump in our path, being rejected by a fellow mom friend hurts.
A whole lot more than I expected.