Just Because Our Kids Are Friends Doesn’t Mean We Should Be

On choosing your own people—even in the world of mom friendships

Photo by Artur Tumasjan on Unsplash

If you have kids, this scene should feel familiar: you’re at some sort of school event or birthday party, making small talk with a group of parents you didn’t choose to hang out with. The only thing you have in common is that your kids ended up in the same place.

And since your kids (understandably) take up a large percentage of your time, suddenly these people are supposed to become your social life?

And if I’m being honest, it’s not really the dads. It’s the moms who are now supposed to be my new best friends.

Wait, what?

Let me back up and admit something:

I don’t connect with women easily.

I’ve always felt more at ease with men. And I’m not a tomboy—I’m a very girly girl. But it’s always taken me longer to build real friendships with women.

Sororities? Never even considered it. Large groups of women you’re expected to instantly bond with? My literal nightmare.

That’s not to say I had zero female friends. It just never came as easily to me.

And unlike a lot of people, I didn’t really carry friendships forward from before college either.

About ten years ago, after my first daughter was born, I was deep in those early postpartum days.

Suddenly, I was desperate for friends who were going through the same thing I was: trying to figure out how to be a first-time mom.

And I did what was previously unthinkable for me: I joined a mom’s group.

I don’t regret it. Those women were a lifesaver more times than I can count in those early days.

I quickly fell in with a smaller group—babies all born within the same two months, all first-time moms. That group text was everything, especially when you have very little idea if what you (or your baby) are going through is at all “normal.”

And as our babies became toddlers and then preschoolers, it was fun to watch them all grow together.

But eventually, we started to grow apart.

One moved away. The others didn’t live close enough for our kids to end up in the same schools. And at some point, the only thing that brought us together was the fact that we had kids the same age.

And that… wasn’t enough. It started to feel like we were trying to hold onto something that had already run its course.

Since then, it’s been a carousel of mom-friend groups tied to whatever stage my daughters are in.

Preschool moms.
Elementary school moms.
Dance moms. (A whole category I absolutely do not vibe with.)

So many times, we’re dropped into groups of parents and expected to find our people just because our kids happen to be the same age.

And at some point, I realized something that felt a little uncomfortable to admit:

Just because our kids are friends doesn’t mean we should be.

We don’t do this anywhere else in life.

We don’t choose our closest friends solely based on proximity—who lives on our street or sits next to us in a meeting.

We choose based on how we feel around someone.

Whether the conversation flows.

Whether we laugh.

Whether we actually enjoy their energy.

And yet, with mom friends, we skip all of that and go straight to: “Our kids have a playdate, so I guess we’re doing wine night now.”

Or worse: no wine. Just… aggressively judging our kids’ teachers.

Somewhere along the line, I decided to do things differently.

I started focusing less on the parents my kids were friends with—and more on the ones I actually wanted to be friends.

Who’s standing in the back of the parent meeting, making jokes under their breath?

Who’s suggesting the fundraising event include an open bar?

Which ones match my vibe: slightly snarky, we love our kids, but we haven’t lost our individual identities?

Those are my people.

And the funny thing is, my kids don’t actually need me to be best friends with their friends’ moms.

They need me to have real friendships.

To have a life outside of them.

To choose people I genuinely enjoy.

If that overlaps with their world sometimes? Great.

If it doesn’t? Also great. Because the best relationships in my life were never assigned to me. I chose them.