Call it my negativity, rebellious, immature, it-was-a-phase phase, but there was a time when I truly believed that the ability to be alone and content was not only virtuous, but desirable.  The way I used to describe it was, ‘We come into this world alone, we leave this world alone, we were meant to be alone.’   Well into my 20s I was content with the notion that I might never be married or have children.  And while it’s difficult to imagine my life any different from what it is today – husband, two daughters, Beta fish, dog (did I mention that we got a dog?!?) – I do remember that conviction about being alone and being OK with it. 

I still love to be alone.  I cherish the time to myself.  Give me two hours alone and then I’m ready to conquer the world!  For anyone who’s taken the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI), I’m an “I,” Introvert.  Introverts draw energy from time alone, as opposed to the “Es,” Extroverts, who draw energy from being around people.   A colleague of mine once illustrated it perfectly.  She explained that E’s are the people who, after a long day at a professional conference, can’t wait to head to restaurant with colleagues immediately following the last seminar of the day.  I’s, on the other hand, like to go back to their hotel rooms for a little while – alone – to recharge before meeting the group for dinner.  I’m one of those people who are perfectly comfortable going out to a restaurant or a move alone.  Not so my husband.  When I first met him and explained my propensity for being alone and my ‘we come into this world alone…’ theory, his retort was to quote from the Bible: “And God said, it is not good for man to be alone.”  Yes, this man piqued my philosophical curiosity, so I married him. 

In my old(er) age, I have to admit, I cherish the connection with my women friends, especially my fellow working mother friends.  I count on them for their honesty, encouragement, their ability to listen to my endless stories.  And me, theirs.  At the present time, we are sharing and living through a friend’s applications for Kindergarten.  Many of you know what I’m talking about.  In Los Angeles, getting into a good elementary school is not that much less a serious concern than getting into college.  We laugh at how ridiculous it is, and yet, we realize how seriously anxiety-provoking and deeply concerning it is to the woman going through it.  We support each other, without judgment, but not without some teasing and mockery just the same.  I’m in deep; I will not have a good night’s sleep until my friend’s son starts kindergarten in September.  While I don’t have to live with my friend’s decision, or raise her child or help him with homework, I am committed to the cause.  And I know she is committed to mine, whether it’s making catering arrangements for my daughter’s Bat Mitzvah or the impending decisions about high schools for a year from now.

We can talk for hours; we laugh together, we cry together.  Sometimes we laugh until we cry.  We respect each other’s opinions and we seek each other’s advice.  And even if we don’t follow the advice in the end, we are confident in knowing that we’ve consulted our trusted sisters, thoroughly vetted every decision, and considered all options; because their opinions matter.

I know I’m not alone and that many of you discovered the magic of friendships with women a long ago.  But I also know that there’s not one woman who has not appreciated this friendship more since she’s become a Mom.  And if you haven’t found such a friendship and camaraderie, seek it out.  It can be the most rewarding, fulfilling relationship; for me, it’s second only to my Bible-quoting husband.  My wish is that every woman has someone whom she can confide in, share with, laugh wi