I am a social animal who also likes my own company from time to time. When I was blessed to become the mother of the Lilliputians four years ago, I suddenly realised, that this is the gig that never packs up to go home. It never ends. So the Engineer, probably for fear of a family murder committed by his sleep-deprived wife, suggested that I take a break and go out with a friend. Enters date night. Although, that was date day, because my beautiful cousin came to whisk me away for a nail appointment and some wine.
Since that date, four years ago, I have been trying to do this once a month, with my tribe. The group has become a little smaller over time, because I realised that sometimes I set these dinners due to guilt. Of course lockdown also interrupted my little tradition when we were not allowed to see anyone, but finally, the tradition lives on.
And it is never fancy. It is lunch or dinner, with someone whom I love, somewhere that I love. And yes, there’s usually wine. I think maybe because they are not brave enough for solo-me without it.
There have been double dinners, where I get two friends to come along. And there have been plans for many in the future. There have even been friends who now set them among each other as well.
These appointments have taught me a few beautiful lessons:
- They support my slogan of only taking with me that which inspires me. I am inspired by these friends every time.
- Conversations are different when they are one-on-one. Also, when there’s not a needy 4-year-old spilling juice on the labrador.
- Every single person is struggling with something.
- I am blessed with beautiful, wise, funny friends (even if some are family), whom I enjoy spending time with.
- It’s OK if you don’t speak every day, friendships can survive some silence too.
I think maybe the most important lesson in these solo outings is that I am not defined by my marriage, or my mothering, or my job, or qualifications, my deafness, or the challenges and joys in my life. I am a product of a journey, and this is also evident in my dinner guests. Some I’ve known since first grade and some I have only met recently. Some studied with me and some worked with me.
If you have been following these rambles, you will know that a dear friend of mine, passed away a little more than a month ago. She was one of my date night regulars. So tomorrow morning I am going for breakfast with one of her friends, whom I hardly know. But even, in her absence, a new friendship is born, where what we have in common (for now) is that which we have lost.
