A few people have pointed out over the last couple of years how isolated I’ve become. Trust me, I know. 😹 You don’t need to tell me I don’t get out much. I already know. My wallet knows. Frieda knows. Heck, even Sir Kit Kat probably knows.

The funny thing is, I don’t think I realized how normal it had become.

I was sitting on the balcony the other day with a coffee, shocking I know, and I got thinking about how different things look now compared to a couple years ago. Not dramatically different. I’m still me. I’m still drinking coffee like it’s one of the major food groups. I’m still talking to Sir Kit Kat like he’s a tiny furry roommate. I’m still avoiding things I don’t want to do and convincing myself I’ll do them tomorrow. Some things never change.

But one thing has changed.

There are people sitting on that balcony with me now.

A couple years ago that wasn’t happening.

Honestly, there was a stretch where I barely wanted to see anybody. Part of it was grief, part of it was disappointment, part of it was exhaustion and part of it was me trying to protect myself. After Nicole passed away, I didn’t want people seeing me like that. I didn’t want to cry in front of people. I didn’t want to feel like a burden. Most days I was just trying to survive the day, never mind trying to socialize. Then life kept throwing other things at me and somewhere along the way staying home became easier than going out.

And if I’m being completely honest, staying home became comfortable. Too comfortable. One cancelled plan became two. One “maybe next time” became another. Then before I knew it, weeks were turning into months. The strange thing is I didn’t even notice it happening because it happened so slowly. It just became normal. And that’s the scary part. Sometimes the things that aren’t good for us become so familiar that we stop questioning them.

The people who matter never really left though. They stayed. That simple. They stayed. They checked in. They sent messages. They encouraged me. They waited patiently while I figured things out. They didn’t push. They didn’t judge. They just kept showing up.

When I finally started saying yes to visits again, I’ll be honest, it felt awkward at first. Not because of them. Because of me. Part of me was excited and part of me wanted to cancel. There were a few times I seriously thought about sending a message saying, “Let’s do it another day.” It had been so long since I’d had people over that I wasn’t even sure how I felt about it anymore. Thankfully I didn’t listen to that little voice in my head because every single time someone left, I found myself thinking the same thing.

I needed that.

One visit that really sticks out for me was my visit with Maureen. We sat on the balcony for hours talking. There were tears. There were laughs. There were conversations that I think both of us needed. Nothing fancy. No big event. Just two friends sitting and talking about life. By the time she left to continue her adventures, I found myself sitting there thinking about how much I needed that visit. It’s funny how sometimes the things that help us heal the most aren’t the big moments. They’re the simple ones. A conversation. A coffee. A hug. A friend showing up and spending a few hours reminding you that you’re not carrying everything alone.

Those balcony visits have become some of my favourite memories lately. Hours disappear out there. We’ve laughed. We’ve cried. We’ve talked about serious things and completely ridiculous things. Sometimes we’ve solved all the world’s problems and other times we’ve spent twenty minutes laughing over something so stupid neither of us could explain it later. Those are the best laughs though, aren’t they? The ones that come out of nowhere and leave your face hurting.

And hugs. We need to talk about hugs for a minute. Text messages are wonderful. Facebook comments are wonderful. Messenger chats are wonderful. But they aren’t hugs. There is something about sitting with another human being, sharing a coffee, having a conversation face to face and getting a hug before they leave that no screen can replace. I don’t think I realized how much I missed that.

One of the biggest things I’ve learned through all of this is what real friendship actually looks like. My sisters have taught me that. They accept me exactly as I am. They don’t expect perfection. They don’t judge me for having bad days. They don’t disappear when life gets complicated. They stayed through the good, the bad and the ugly. They stayed through grief. They stayed through tears. They stayed through healing. They stayed through the days when I wasn’t exactly fun to be around.

They stayed.

That simple.

They stayed.

Friendship means something very different to me now than it did ten years ago. Back then I probably thought having lots of friends mattered. Now? Not so much. I’d rather have a handful of people who genuinely care than a crowd of people who only show up when it’s convenient. Quality over quantity every single time. The older I get, the more important that becomes.

As for asking for help… let’s just say I’m still a work in progress. 😹 My brain still immediately goes to, “What if they’re busy?” “What if I’m bothering them?” “What if I can figure it out myself?” And if you’ve known me for more than five minutes, you already know stubbornness is one of my stronger personality traits. I still try to do things myself long before I ask for help. I’m getting better, but slowly. Very slowly.

Looking back now, I don’t think the biggest lesson was that I had isolated myself. I think the biggest lesson was realizing who stayed. The people who checked in when they didn’t have to. The people who encouraged me when I didn’t always believe in myself. The people who sat with me through grief, tears, frustration and healing. The people who simply kept showing up.

I don’t think they’ll ever fully understand how much that meant to me.

Maybe that’s the funny thing about friendship. Sometimes the people who change our lives the most aren’t the loudest people in the room. They’re the ones who quietly keep showing up, over and over again, until one day you look around and realize they helped carry you through one of the hardest seasons of your life.

💬 I’d love to hear from you.

Who is someone who helped you through one of the hardest seasons of your life? Give them a little shoutout below. I think we all have people who deserve a thank you now and then. 💜

To those people in my life, thank you. Thank you for your patience. Thank you for your encouragement. Thank you for your balcony visits, your coffee chats, your hugs, your laughter and your friendship. Most of all, thank you for staying.

And remember… this is Real Talk. Real Life. Real Connections.

Life isn’t meant to be lived alone. Sometimes the people who change our lives the most aren’t the loudest people in the room. They’re the ones who quietly keep showing up, over and over again, until one day you realize they helped carry you through one of the hardest seasons of your life.

Take care of yourselves, and take care of each other. I’ll meet you back here soon for another coffee chat. 💜☕🐾