OPINION
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I like to dip my toes in the pond that is the Canberra Mums Facebook page occasionally. It's quite a barometer of the issues that are troubling parents in this town. From the best doctors in town for fertility problems, to assessments of local schools, to general advice on parenting problems such as sleeping, eating and precocious children.
Got a question? There's more than 32,000 people who are following this page, ready with an answer. Founded in 2009, it's a space to connect expecting, new and experienced mums in a non-judgmental environment, accepting of all parenting styles and all forms of motherhood.
It's been quite a haven, so I'm told, during quarantine. A safe way to escape the confines of home, escape the grind that was online learning, or the challenges of working from the dining table next to your partner.
I often wonder why, however, complete strangers can post some of the most intimate things. Granted, each post is anonymous (although the responses are not), but people post the most personal information. From marriage breakdowns, to health issues, to incidences of domestic violence. I guess in that sense, it's a real community. A place to connect. A place to get things off your chest. But in some ways, how sad that you have to resort to Facebook to do that.
One post that went viral this week was from a woman who asked if anyone else struggled to make friends once they became a mother.
"You meet mums at school but no one really wants to hang out outside of that," she wrote. "I'm a mum in my mid 30s with kids ranging from five to 12 and in need of a best friend. Someone to have cocktails with. Someone to have a laugh with. Someone to share dirty jokes with and just have fun with. I'm not looking for playdates ... I just really want to find another normal mum who still likes to have some girl time. Get dressed up, go out to dinner and enjoy a glass a wine. Does anyone else feel like this?"
I know Canberra Mums is that non-judgmental space, but I felt really sorry for this woman. If there's one thing lockdown has given us, it's perspective on what friendships actually matter. I can't imagine being in my mid 30s and thinking I didn't have any "real friends", as she put it.
More so, I can't imagine thinking that becoming a mother changed my ability to make friends. Have I struggled to make friends since becoming a mother? No. I didn't struggle beforehand either. Perhaps that's the question needing an answer here.
Lockdown has been great for reconnecting with some old friends. There's always one in the group, if you're blessed, who'll organise reunions, or make sure everyone keeps in touch, and schedule Zoom catch-ups with people you haven't seen since you all left university 30 years ago. We were friends before we were mothers, many of us have since become mothers, and coincidentally some of our children now attend school together even though we're all living in different parts of the country. Other friends, I've met through sport. Teammates who have remained friends long after our playing days were over, others who still humour me as the "experienced" one. Teammates who watched me become a mother while they were not much older than my children are now, who, once they started having their own families, would sometimes come to me for advice.
And yes, some of my best friends I've met through my children. Mothers of my children's friends, indeed some where our friendship has outlived that of the kids.
But I'd like to think that these women would be my friend whether I was a mother or not. Becoming a mother doesn't change who you intrinsically are, or it shouldn't.
Some people say Canberra can be a hard place to make friends. I've never understood that.
There are so many opportunities here to meet people, do things, get out and about, so many intelligent people to strike conversations with.
But lockdown has also been great for giving us some perspective about what friendship actually is. It's not about girls' nights out at the club, or living in each other's pockets. It's about being there in whatever capacity works for you both. Whether that be a weekly message, a Skype call, or a long rambling phone call. It's about being there for someone, listening, being honest.