Summer Transitions and Old Friends
My daughter's been saying goodbye to her teacher and classmates this week, and there's something about the end of the school year that always makes me think about transitions. Maybe it's watching her process that mix of excitement and sadness that comes with change, or maybe it's just the season, but I've been reconnecting with people from different chapters of my life in ways that feel both surprising and inevitable.
Just this week, a middle school friend found me on Instagram. We haven't seen each other since we were both 14, but within 30 minutes of that first message, we'd made plans to meet for drinks next week. It all happened so naturally; no awkward catching up, no forced small talk about what we've been doing for the past two decades. Just "Hey, I can't believe you're in the same city" and suddenly we're texting like no time has passed at all.
This is the part of being an international school kid that I always appreciate. We learned early how to make friends quickly, to find common ground across cultural differences, and to maintain connections across massive distances and time zones. Most importantly, we learned that "home" isn't a place—it's the people who make you feel like yourself, no matter where you are in the world.
How Motherhood Changes the Math
Since having my daughter, I've noticed how some friendships have found completely new rhythms while others have deepened in ways I didn't expect. The friends who text out of nowhere with no agenda except to check in. The ones who remember your coffee order from years ago. The colleagues who become confidants then morph into extended family.
There's also something about becoming a mother that makes you more intentional about which connections you nurture. Not because you love people less, but because your time becomes more precious and you want to spend it with people who truly see you. Not just the professional version or the social media version, but all the versions that make up who you are.
I think about past versions of myself sometimes. The one who traveled constantly for work, who could say yes to every networking event, who had the luxury of spontaneous after-work drinks. I used to wonder if those aspects of my identity were gone forever. But through creative projects like the podcast, and through reconnections like the one this week, I'm learning that integration is possible. You don't have to choose between being a devoted mother and being someone who pursues meaningful work and relationships. You just have to be more intentional about how you do both.
Creative Work as Bridge
Working on my upcoming podcast has naturally led to meaningful conversations with old friends and colleagues. When you invite someone to share their story, you're creating space for connection that goes beyond small talk and professional updates. These aren't surface-level catch-ups—they're deeper conversations about growth, change, and the lessons that shape us.
What strikes me most is how these conversations feel different from typical networking. There's no agenda beyond genuine curiosity, no transactional element. Just the simple act of asking someone to reflect on their journey and share what they've learned along the way.
I've been surprised by how these conversations have influenced my own thinking about what comes next, both creatively and personally. Sometimes when you invite others to examine their story, you start seeing new patterns in your own.
The Gift of Being Known
Some of the most meaningful reconnections don't require grand gestures or perfectly crafted messages. They unfold in small, natural ways. A quick DM about something that reminded you of them, a shared laugh over an old photo, a moment of genuine interest in how they're doing now.
These are the connections that don't demand constant attention but offer steady support when it matters. They remind you that not every relationship needs daily tending. Some just need occasional light and space to breathe.
There's something particularly powerful about people who knew you in different chapters of your life. They can see the threads that connect all versions of who you've been, reminding you that growth doesn't mean abandoning parts of yourself—it means weaving them into something richer.
Full Circle
Looking ahead to summer plans that now include drinks with my middle school friend and continued podcast conversations, I'm struck by how naturally these connections are emerging. It's not about trying to recreate the past, but about creating new spaces for relationships that continue to shape who I'm becoming.
Watching my daughter navigate her own transitions this week—saying goodbye to this school year while looking forward to summer adventures—I see how naturally she moves between sadness and excitement, holding space for both feelings at once. Maybe that's what reconnection teaches us too: that we can honor what was while embracing what's next.
And sometimes, if you're lucky, it all starts with the courage to hit send on a simple message. 💜
Thank you for being here and for growing this little corner of the internet with me. If something in this piece sparked a thought or memory, consider sharing it with a friend who might relate. These stories feel most meaningful when they create connections between us.