The Friendship Formula

by Caroline Millington

  Cruse Bereavement Care say it’s important that you take care of yourself following the death of a loved one. Here’s their advice:

  Do...

  ♦ Talk to other people about the person who has died, about your memories and your feelings.

  ♦ Look after yourself. Eat properly and try to get enough rest (even if you can’t sleep).

  ♦ Give yourself time and permission to grieve.

  ♦ Seek help and support if you feel you need it.

  ♦ Tell people what you need.

  Don’t...

  ♦ Isolate yourself.

  ♦ Keep your emotions bottled up.

  ♦ Think you are weak for needing help.

  ♦ Feel guilty if you are struggling to cope.

  ♦ Turn to drugs or alcohol – the relief will only be temporary.

  10

  The parent trap

  There is one thing that I believe is 100 per cent guaranteed to change any friendship: parenthood. It’s a subject discussed by all my friends – mums and child-free women like me. The blessing of a baby can create wonderful new bonds and also tear friendships apart. While men may find friendships shift after one or both become a dad, it seems women’s friendships are impacted even more.

  Let’s not assume all family set-ups are the same – I have friends who are same-sex parents, single parents, dads with full-time custody of their kids – but the one thing all mums and dads have in common is a severe lack of free time. Wind back the clock to before that bundle of joy came along and many of you will know that a friendship comes under threat long before the pitter-patter of tiny feet. People often feel cast aside when a friend falls in love and disappears to get to know their new partner.

  This isn’t an anti-marriage or anti-relationship rant, I promise! But having seen friendships slip away after the exchange of ‘I dos’, it’s time to explore how to maintain friendships when partners and kids come into the picture – because the responsibility lies with both friends.

  Love you, bye!

  One University of Oxford study found that falling in love can cost you two close friends. Ouch! ‘People who are in romantic relationships – instead of having the typical five [individuals] on average, they only have four in that circle. Bearing in mind that one of those is the new person that’s come into your life, it means you’ve had to give up two others,’ Robin Dunbar, a professor of evolutionary anthropology, has explained.

  This means that, as your inner circle of friends drops from five of the people you are closest to and is now made up of your partner and three others, two close friends are moved into the next circle – and the friendships can naturally deteriorate. ‘If you don’t see people, your emotional engagement with them drops off and does so quickly,’ Professor Dunbar has said. ‘The intimacy of a relationship – your emotional engagement with it – correlates very tightly with the frequency of your interactions with those individuals.’

  William Rawlins, professor of interpersonal communication at Ohio University, has also found marriage can be the catalyst that ends even the closest of friendships. ‘The largest drop-off in friends in the life course occurs when people get married,’ he has said. ‘And that’s kind of ironic, because [at the wedding] people invite both of their sets of friends, so it’s kind of this last wonderful and dramatic gathering of both people’s friends, but then it drops off.’

  It’s a sad fact that some friendships simply fade away like a Polaroid photograph, never to be transformed into multicolour again – something to look back on with fond memories and smile, but definitely belonging in the past. No one gets more than twenty-four hours in their day and the needs of family – a partner and children – will undoubtedly take priority over those of friends. When you know you’ll be leaving your family short if you fill up friends’ glasses first, it’s friends who will end up being thirsty for your time.

  Changing nappies and changing friendships

  Sometimes it feels like I’ve been standing at the top of the parenting path for the past decade clinging onto my gin and tonic with an inane grin on my face, waving to my friends as they skip off together into the sunset, pushing their Bugaboos with glee while swapping weaning tips.

  Friends brush past me – men with their mini-mes tucked into a papoose, women who have had baby number two in their early forties – to gather in the play park. I’ve watched for over fifteen years, so now many of my mates have teenagers, tweenagers, toddlers and teething tots – biological, adopted, surrogate, how these beautiful children got here is irrelevant. Some are with partners, some are alone. All are families.

  I was recently asked by someone I’d just met, ‘Do you have a family?’ I knew exactly what she meant. A family of my own. But I wasn’t sure how to answer, so I replied, ‘I have a mum, dad and sister but if you mean my own… no.’ There are many reasons a person doesn’t have children. If a man or woman doesn’t, any conversation should be approached with caution. Quite frankly, just don’t even ask, because it’s none of your damn business. For some it is a choice, for others it’s not. Either way, the crack that is created between friends when babies come along can become as wide as the Grand Canyon if you BOTH don’t throw in some time and love.

  Priorities change. That’s a given. Becoming a parent is all-consuming, and friendships are the first thing to be shelved, to collect a fine layer of dust until mum – or dad – are ready to put their child down, pick up their friend, dust them off and try to re-establish the friendship.

  New mums can struggle with feelings of isolation, depression and a loss of identity. Childless women can face insensitive questions and assumptions about why their wombs have remained vacant. There is so much sensitivity surrounding motherhood – the decision to have a child, the surprise unplanned pregnancy, the yearning for a baby when you don’t have a partner, infertility issues, the loss of a child, and so much more. It’s no wonder women’s friendships can become fractured when baby talk begins. I’ve seen resentment build between mums and non-mums. Children bring so much to our lives but they make everything a lot more complicated, right?

  I’ve also been given the gift of other people’s children in my life. Being an aunt, godmother and honorary auntie is one of my most fulfilling and proudest achievements. Of course, these kids have transformed the friendships I have with their parents, but if the relationship was based on love and understanding rather than cocktails and gossip, it’s much easier to go the distance. You adapt. Take a crash course in mum-talk. Support your mate through the ups and downs of motherhood – because, ultimately, mums are all rock stars with a mini-entourage. My advice to non-mums – join in, because it’s a hell of a ride!

  Life and confidence coach – and mum of two – Charlie O’Brien says…

  ‘When babies arrive on the scene inevitably friendships change, especially if one of you has children and the other doesn’t. But it absolutely doesn’t need to be the end…

  Childfree…

  If you’re the friend without children it may feel like the woman you’ve loved, confided in and got horrendously drunk with for years has been lost to a savage sea of nappies, vomit and baby talk. And you’re partly right. Your friend has gone through the biggest life shift there is. She has been reborn as a mother. Her baby is the centre of her universe and quite rightly so – but underneath the pile of baby washing she’s still the same woman she always was. And chances are she’s desperate for adult conversation, a night out and a G&T!

  Lunches, coffees and evenings out will take more forward planning than they used to, but you can be a helping hand. Ask if you can come round and watch the baby while she has a bath and gets ready. She will appreciate it more than you’ll know. And the best friendships thrive when you take an active interest in each other’s lives. So get to know the baby, be part of their family life, listen to her moan. Embrace this new chapter with her and, remember, she’s still the same woman you love.

  Mums…

  If you’re the one consum
ed with breastfeeding, baby-grows and sleep schedules it’s important you don’t forget your child-free friends. Motherhood is all-consuming, especially in those early sleepless days, but there is nothing more refreshing than FaceTiming your best mate and chatting about something non-baby related. Keep your bond strong by taking an interest in her accomplishments, achievements and, of course, her stresses. Women without children can often feel sidelined as everyone around them starts families. It can be a lonely time.

  Remind your friend that, even though it may be a while until you feel up to a night out again, she’s always welcome at yours for a takeaway and a catch-up. All relationships take work and compromise especially through periods of change, and it’s great to remind yourself about why you became friends in the first place.

  Becoming a mum doesn’t mean you only need ‘mum friends’. In fact, it’s wonderful to stay close to those who knew you BEFORE you had children. They will help you hang on to your identity outside of motherhood. Sometimes relationships end; people change and friendships drift apart – and that’s OK too. A friendship takes work and love on both sides and, if one party stops doing that, it may be time to move on.’

  My guide to helping friendship survive motherhood

  Mums…

  When you have children, the freedom you once enjoyed all but disappears; your friendships will adapt, change and some will fall by the wayside. When your free time is limited, you’re allowed to be fussy about who you spend it with, so it’s only natural you’ll concentrate on your inner circle and let some friends go. Do it guilt-free. The best people will keep in touch, check in on you, ask if you need help and be there to take you out for the night when you feel ready to leave baby at home for the first time.

  As a parent you have to put your child’s needs – AND your own – first. That can be hard for any friend to accept, but if they are not willing to adapt and come along for the ride, they can’t offer what you need in a friend anyway. Send us photos of your kids, tell us their funny stories, make us part of their lives, and don’t be afraid to reveal your parenting fails too. You are our window into motherhood. But NEVER utter, ‘You won’t understand because you’re not a mum.’

  Try to put aside a day or weekend, even just once a year, to spend with your best friends without your children. We know it’s a big ask, but when you give us your full attention (phones away please) it feels like we have our old friend back. Investing time in your closest friends will pay off in the long run too – who do you think will be there to babysit/do emergency school pick-ups/be there for your teenager to confide in/spoil your kids rotten?

  Non-mums…

  You have to get used to half-listened-to conversations when there’s a baby about, and when your friend gets up and walks away in the middle of a deep and meaningful chat to tend to their kid you bite your tongue. They also forget what you were talking about and seem distracted, mostly because sleep deprivation is a form of torture they suffer every night at the lungs of their little one. Don’t take it personally. Accepting your new place in your friend’s life takes time, but if your friendship runs deep, invest time with your mum friend now and you’ll create a whole new role in her life and the baby’s.

  Planning is everything. There are no impromptu get-togethers. There will often be a start and finish time to any social event revolving around naps/feeding/bath/relieving the babysitter. Get used to it. Diarize, make the most of the time you have together sans kids, and embrace the madness of spending time with your friends’ kids too. It’s a real honour to be part of a child’s life and the bond you build with them is really special.

  Mums speak in another language, which they became fluent in seemingly overnight in the maternity ward: Mum-glish. New words and phrases are introduced: mastitis (instead of Merlot), sleep training (not gym training) and NCT (nothing to do with SJP). Make the effort to learn so she can talk to you in her hour of need. There will be new ‘mum friends’ around, but don’t assume she feels comfortable discussing everything with them.

  Be patient. You’ll miss the life you had with your friend before babies, but don’t wallow – embrace the change, throw yourself into your auntie role and have fun. Friends’ kids are a great excuse to be a big kid yourself – I have far too much fun with face paints, rollercoasters, zombie stories, teen movies, hide-and-seek, laser tag and Baby Shark than is probably decent for a child-free woman of my age! And I love it.

  Dear mums,

  a letter from your non-mum friends…

  I love you. And I love your child. But things have really changed between us since you became a mother. The joy you have in your life makes me happy, but I miss the old us too.

  I want to be part of your life but can’t help feeling rejected. You don’t have time for me like before. I get it.

  I’m supposed to be a grown-up about this, and understanding, but sometimes I just feel you slipping away from me.

  I miss our nights out. And gossiping for hours. Comparing hangovers and dating disasters.

  Our lives are so different now, and they’ll never be the same again. I’m not a priority. And sometimes that hurts. Then I feel guilty for being selfish. Because I’m happy you’re happy. Honestly, I am.

  I like spending time with your kids – they are hilarious – but I’d like more time with you just by myself, to discover what we still have in common as two friends. But I’m scared that we’ll realize we don’t have much in common now after all.

  So I’ll be patient. I’ll learn all about Iggle Piggle and homemade slime. I’ll make sure I always remember your kids’ birthdays. I’ll sympathize when you’re exhausted and not compare it to when I’m knackered from a night out. I’ll listen to your mum worries and try to sympathize.

  I promise to be here when you want to talk. But let’s make sure it’s not just about mum stuff. I’ll try not to be jealous of all your new mum friends that you have loads more in common with than me now.

  I want you to know I love you. And I’m so proud of the mum and woman you are.

  Jo Wimble-Groves, aka mum blogger Guilty Mother, says…

  ‘When I met my husband, he was already aware of how important my friends were to me and he accepted that he would have to share me.

  I consider myself lucky to have had the same best friend since I was twelve years old. She hugged and scooped me up when my parents divorced in the most unamicable way and I was the one who had to move out. In our twenties, we supported each other over disastrous boyfriends. It was always our relationship that remained the most stable.

  During our three decades of friendship, we have seen each other at our best and at our worst. We’ve weathered storms together and seen both our husbands become terribly unwell and supported each other as they both recovered (to a degree). We watched each other have children and I was one of the first to hold her third baby in the hospital.

  As we became parents, the juggling act really started to crank up a notch. These busy, full-on days mean that we often go weeks or even months without seeing each other. My advice? If they are the most loyal of friends to you, then when you see them, it should feel like you have never been apart. If you have at least one friendship like that, make sure you hold on to it tight.’

  The Friendship Formula survey…

  Have you lost a friend when they became a parent?

  45% Yes

  55% No

  ‘When I had kids, a close friend didn’t contact me. Another ghosted me. They were both undergoing IVF.’

  ‘I’ve resented the changes a baby brings to a friendship, particularly as I suffer from infertility and have been going through treatment.’

  ‘I’ve struggled with friends having kids but only because I have been so desperate to have my own.’

  ‘I miss my friends when I don’t see them as much, but I don’t resent them or anyone.’

  ‘Give it time – people come back once they are no longer drowning in parenthood.’

  ‘Roll with it. Embrace it. Be
come a part of the family. Those children will keep your friendship going for far longer. Because they’ll keep asking to see you too.’

  ‘Accept that the friendship changes more for them than you. Don’t assume they can’t come out. Keep inviting them but have realistic expectations.’

  11

  Just good friends?

  The age-old question: can men and women just be good friends? Did they even manage to answer it properly in 1989’s When Harry Met Sally?

  In my teens, my closest friend was actually my mate Ian who I met when I was about fifteen. He’s been a constant in my life ever since, and although we don’t see each other as much as we’d like, I know he’s always there for me.

  Going to an all-girls school meant I lacked male friendship until I changed school for my A levels. There were boys around, and my attitude to friendships between the genders changed. For the first time in my life I had a group of guy friends who I was close to. The only rule to being one of the lads was I couldn’t snog any of them (or rather, they couldn’t snog me). However, some of those boys liked to complicate things… Which led me to question whether men and women can really just be good friends. It seemed there was always an attraction on one side or the other.

  Anyway, these guys taught me that it’s possible to be friends with members of the opposite sex without snogging getting in the way – and I’m still friends with many of them to this day. They showed me the special bond between guys and the difference between women’s friendships and men’s.