I’m breaking up with you. Yes I have changed over the last year. Becoming a mom has slightly altered my being. I can no longer prioritize happy hour, Sunday brunches or phone calls listening to you complain about jerks and bosses. I need to strategically plan every free minute I have in order to optimize my time and, frankly, I can’t seem to schedule you in.
Yes, I have changed, but you have not. You’re need to be the center of attention is exhausting to maintain and frankly insulting to my presence. Your inability to acknowledge my strengths and your insistence on poking fun at my quirks is maddening. Showing up late to dinner because you decided to attend yoga is not ok (and FYI, yoga is supposed to teach you a lot more than downward facing dog). I’m done, I have had it with you and the likes of you which seems to be a growing breed in an era fuelled by Facebook narcissism and smartphone selfies. It’s time to trim the fat. Let’s be honest, though. When you’re sitting across from me on those Sunday brunches fingering your phone, you’re indirectly telling me the same thing I’m telling you. If you’d rather read about so and so’s awesome Eggs Benedict at that “cool” restaurant in that “trendy” neighborhood than engage in conversation with me about topics which may include but are not limited to my daughter, my relationship, my job etc… then I think it’s safe to say it’s time to part ways.
While letting you go is, admittedly, going to shrink my roster of friends even further, I have come to terms with the fact that quality is significantly more important than quantity in that department and, like most things in life, creating lasting, real friendships takes time and effort. I’ll just have to include building more as part of my life’s To Do list and now that I‘ve freed myself from you, I can allocate that time accordingly.