To The Friend Whose Season I’m Not In

I honestly wish I could honestly say, “I know.” That I get it, that I understand and relate in a way that is current and familiar–not having to channel how I might feel or how I once felt.

You and I, we’ve had that pea-pod existence for most of the bigger questions and transitions these last few years. It feels weird to do this part without you.

With you and without you, even if just for a little bit.

I know we’re just saying the same thing from different camps–one of them being the one we once shared before that single element in my life or yours changed.

We try to be the folks for each other who say the right words at the right times even though this season-shift has messed with our language or our hearing a little bit. Never wanting to be another one of “those people” (with the loose lips and the uneducated advice) we do our damnedest on each other’s behalf. And sometimes we get it wrong, and a lot of times we get it right.

Thanks for the room.

I’m glad you made new friends. Not replacement ones of course (I’d kill you), but additional ones. They’ve got the tone that I lost or the one I hope to gain by leaving or staying in that spot we called ours. I’m glad I made new ones too. And that we cheered for each other when it happened.

I hope you know that you give me the advice and perspective and care and comfort that no one else can, not in spite of your reality that is either foreign or retired for me, but because of it.

You are doing what I have not done, and that breathes perspective and a sense of calm into my anxieties. Or you are doing what we once did together, and that reminds me of who I am, and was, and therefore still can be.

What a gift I had in you when all of our edges aligned perfectly. What a gift I have in you now as we fumble around and figure this out too–as we add our variations of daily life to the table without the things that mattered really changing.

And let’s talk about those…

In the midst of all that I don’t know that you now call your norm…in the midst of all that you don’t know that I now call mine…though our conversations are sprinkled with reminders that we swim in different lanes…these things have stayed consistent:

You know and see me.

You remember how I need things phrased when I’m crying about the state of my life or the world.

You have never, not once, forgotten what kind of gifts are necessary for a pick-me-up.

You have celebrated, with ownership and pride, every single accomplishment in my life and addition to my home.

You are who I want to tell the funny stuff to.

You adjust with and for me in every new chapter.

I’ve had good friends–the ones who added something valuable to the mix before moving on and cutting natural ties. And I’ve had great friends-turned-wounds whose connection didn’t quite make it to the other side of transition–where one or both of our faults left something of quality in that odd dust of newness. I give thanks for how they’ve both made me, though I doubt we’d know what to talk about if our paths crossed now.

And I’ve had those best friends (like you, duh) who allow me to change and stubbornly refuse to leave in the process. I give thanks for how we hold each other together…our old with our new with our now.

Today I’ll give a grateful nod toward all those strangers-once-partners-in-crime without whom I’d never be me, here. And today I’ll text all those steady anchor friends who held on or came back regardless of the line on my map.

You guys are magic…gifts…grace.

Britney Lee
About me

Hi there! My name is Britney, and I’m a C+ student in the art of “trusting my momma instincts”—just so we all are aware of the spot from which I’ll be writing. I’m in holy matrimony with Luke, and we’re in sweet holy chaos with Bridger—who came into the world no smaller than a Volvo early June 2015. I get really into social justice issues, British TV series, and not working out. I’m an ENFP, 7w8 who believes that isolated lives can be dangerous when we’re all trying to make it through hard stuff and stay sane. I hope that Katie and I can create a place here where we can get close and get real and laugh a little. My solemn vow to you is that I will never clean my house before taking a MDB pic of it for instagram. Neither of us have energy for that. Welcome to Milk Drunk Blog!


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January 03, 2017
Unreasonable Children
August 09, 2016
Baby Book (or How Time is Weird)
July 26, 2016
Clean: A Review
June 21, 2016
Always Ever Both
June 07, 2016
Pesto Spaghetti Squash
May 24, 2016
Enneagram Mama
May 10, 2016
Job Change After Baby
April 12, 2016

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