Now that it’s over, I find myself searching out the Tweets and Facebook statuses and posts about BlogHer. I want to see what I missed, I guess. I haven’t seen much, yet. But what I have seen makes me both sad all over again that I missed it and happy that it went so well for so many women (and men). Most of what I have seen is the usual BlogHer honeymoon style posts, speaking of amazing moments, wonderful friendships and powerful sessions. I love to hear it. I can almost remember how it felt when I was there too. The heady combination of it all. The urge to fill as many hours as possible with high-quality moments. The parties, the hugs, the camaraderie…
I miss it.
And I could have definitely used it this year. Oh yes. I could have.
I’ve spoken before about how lonely it can be, staying at home. Generations ago, most women stayed home with the kids. It was common to know the women in the neighborhood and out of a need for survival, they would come together for coffee, let the kids play, chat about their families, prop each other up. Help each other out. Be a shoulder to lean on, those long, difficult days. These women were, in each other, someone besides their husbands that cared about them. If they didn’t live in the same town with their families, that bond was imperative.
These days… the neighborhoods are empty during the days. Everything is quiet. No moms. No kids. Nothing.
There are avenues for making friends, but it’s hard. A lot of people make friends at work. When you don’t work, you make friends at your child’s school, church and church functions, the store. And when you’re shy, it makes it that much more difficult. And when you’ve been burnt, it makes it even harder than that.
I have a lot of friendly acquaintances, on and offline. I have friends, I’m sure I do, but often circumstance and distance keep us from really being able to rely on one another.
I could use more friends. I need more friends. We have no family anywhere close. We have no one, generally, to hang out with on summer evenings, or winter evenings or spring evenings… you get the idea. No game nights, no barbecues, no pool parties, no meeting for lunches out, no shopping dates, no movie nights.
It’s got to be as hard on my husband as it is on me. Though surely he’s busier with work and isn’t as aware of the gaping absence of friends. Still, I know there are times he’d like to have some people who are close to get together with and celebrate, even if it’s just to celebrate the weekend.
I don’t know how to change this. I don’t think I can. Well, not here at least. It’s a cop out, but I’ve convinced myself that living in Reno is part of the problem. And not just Reno, but WHERE in Reno we live. We’re fairly isolated out here. No one wants to drive clear out here. I don’t blame them! I probably wouldn’t want to either. Maybe if we lived somewhere else, another state even, it would be better. Easier. At least a clean slate would help, right?
Online friends are great but there lacks that closeness. And a lot of times they are still just acquaintances. Someone who is nice to chat with, but not someone you can trust or count on. Not a friend.
Aaaaaaand, on that happy note, I’m going to bed. Be good to each other, y’all.