One is very pregnant with her second child. One is leaving her baby overnight for the first time and still pumping. One is grieving the loss of a parent while celebrating a newborn. One is checking in on her sick third child. We are drinking espresso martinis, cooing and bouncing a 3-month old, laughing until our cheeks hurt, and ducking into cozy coffee shops in inclement weather. We are simultaneously reminiscing and creating new memories. We all share exciting news, big ideas, and also heart-wrenching sadness. It is cup-filling, joyful, heavy, inspiring, challenging, and empowering all at the same time. However, what stands out for me the most is that it’s messy.
I don’t mean suitcase-overflowing messy (personally guilty of that), but life messy. Beautifully and heartbreakingly and wonderfully and chaotically messy. There’s breast milk leaking, girlfriends gossiping, spit-up cleaning, red-wine pouring, husbands calling, and overdue story sharing. There are all the tears – from sidesplitting laughter to deep-belly woe. The about-to-wet-our pants-laughing tears, I-feel-seen tears, I-miss-you-already tears, and one-day-at-a-time tears. There are all the truths too. The I’m-barely-hanging-in-there truths, what-do-people-think truths, am-I-enough truths, and I’m-supported-yet-still-lonely truths.
There’s styled hair and heeled boots and also greasy scalps and sock feet. There are fancy dinners and decorated brunches and there are basement forts and crumbs-and-car-seat-filled cars. It’s a mess. We’re often a mess. And yet, I wouldn’t have it any other way. There’s stickiness (for sure on the car seats), but also in conversations. There are the vulnerable confessions, humbling realizations, unrelatable updates, and gut-wrenching disclosures. There’s also the like-newborn-skin smoothness of friends who have known each other for almost two decades. There are helpful hands, warm embraces, thoughtful actions, and knowing smiles. The cold and dreary weather never lets up, and yet we are always awash with warmth.
There’s so much comfort in the discomfort. There’s so much connection in the chaos. There’s so much dazzling beauty in the mess. We speak words we’ve never said out loud and tell stories we’ve told time and time again. We share the heaviness that we all carry, and we feel lighter. We share the pain and the hurt, and we feel happier. We share the imperfections, and we all feel more understood. We share the wins and the joys, and we feel unstoppable. We share the mess. It’s not always pretty or comfortable or seamless, but it’s real and it’s ours. There may be dishes stacked in the sink, last night’s food left out on the counter, and hair permanently gathered in low, frizzy buns, but we don’t mind. Life isn’t even close to tidy or methodical. A full life is an absolute mishmash. It’s tangled and wild and mystifying but also breathtaking and miraculous and serendipitous. As I look around, I can’t help smiling at the immaculate mess that we’ve all made together.
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Photos taken in Saint-Tropez by Ann-Kelly Photography
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