Watering What’s Already in the Garden: Playdates to Adulthood
With the holidays coming up, I find myself circling back to relationships. All summer, this topic has been in the background, like when you leave a candle while you focus on other things. While the flame is still flickering and I have been keeping a watchful eye, the flame is just that: a flame. To my surprise, when I actually put in the effort, I realized I have more possibilities than I thought: dinners/nights to plan, people to hangout with, conversations waiting to happen.
For a long time, my mindset around friendship was all about searching. I thought the answer had to be “out there,” waiting at some event, in some room, or in some new face I hadn’t met yet. I would chase after connection, convinced that if I kept looking, I’d eventually fill the gap I felt. Something always seemed to be missing, and my instinct was to go out and hunt for it. I joined so many paid events in Sacramento, hoping each one would finally lead me to the connections I was searching for. At the time, it felt worth it, not so much for the money I spent, but for the hope that maybe this event, this room, this crowd, would be the one where I met my new best friend. Was it naive? A bit. Was it fun and is money just paper? Why yes! Instead of drowning in regret the only thing that has kept me stable is well, what did these events teach me?
Truthfully, I realized the answer wasn’t just about building better relationships. It had more to do with the way I was observing consumerism and, honestly, patriarchy. Female friendships (or really, women’s friendships, since we’re not girls anymore) often carry a different weight than male friendships. I’ve seen this contrast up close through my partner, and it really hit me again this past weekend.
My first point is as women, we don’t always have set-in-stone jokes. There isn’t the same kind of ongoing banter that I see in male friendships, where the same lines or stories get repeated until they become part of the friendship itself. Most of it does revolve around sexually meaningless banter. Watching my partner and his friends, I notice how their humor acts like a rhythm they can always fall back on. Plus they bring up every five seconds like a spark to a flame to ignite the wick, sometimes that flame can get bigger and bigger until it returns back to its original size and they talk about something else. It is their baseline for conversation before attaining the nitty gritty of their emotional state. I find this to be exceptionally useful and something we can appreciate in the male field of friendship.
In my own friendships, that rhythm feels harder to find, almost like every conversation has to stand on its own instead of leaning on an established foundation. I usually fall back on the basics: “How are you?” “How’s work?” “How’s your family or dating life?” And while those questions can spiral into deeper talks, it still feels like starting from scratch each time rather than slipping into a familiar groove. What I crave is the familiar groove because I don’t want to ask or pull it out, I want it to be something naturally brought up and something they automatically want to share. The only things I should be asking are more detailed questions, very specific knowledge based questions.
I used to think frequency was the root cause that if we just talked more as friends that it would get to that level of connection. But I am starting to doubt it. Rather it's not the amount of time spent talking but the culture that surrounds woman friendships. The way we’re socialized to be friend one another is much different than men. Etiquette doesn’t exist in their world. Instead we use the expectations placed on women, the subtle glimpses of patriarchy, to shape how these relationships function. With the intent of making women friendships harder to find that natural rhythm or effortless banter that seems so common elsewhere.
And while we, as women, recognize this gap and try to find ways around it, I think what it really boils down to is lived experiences. Men, granted they have reached a certain age still act like children, they have child-like friendships. They play video games together, watch sports together, or go out and play a sport together. These activities are rooted in childhood. It is actually a shared experience and they continue to nurture into adulthood, and eventually “pass” on when they have kids. I have mentioned this in a previous blog post, but women don't seem to have that same trajectory. As a kid, I played with dolls, dressed up, or spent time outside. But how do you reflect that as an adult with your women friends? Even if most of us shared those childhood activities, what’s the adult equivalent? I don’t think there is one, and that missing translation leaves a gap. Sure, there are fragments — shopping, trips, creative hobbies — but they’re not consistent or easy defaults. I’m not sure there is an easy equivalent to the shared activities that anchor men’s friendships.
Maybe that’s the point: women’s friendships might need something entirely different, something we invent for ourselves as adults. As the holidays come closer, I’m ready to stop searching for something outside of myself and start creating the kind of connections I want to see. Maybe it’s not about finding an exact adult equivalent to childhood play, but about building new rituals that feel just as effortless and grounding. For now, I’m watering what’s already in my garden and I’m curious to see what grows.
Enjoy This Journey With Me
° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °
Enjoy This Journey With Me ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °
This isn’t the end—just a bookmark in the conversation. Stories don’t really close; they unfold, shift, and find new voices. If this one stirred something in you, let it breathe. Leave a thought, challenge an idea, or carry it forward in your own way. And if you ever feel like wandering through more unfinished thoughts, you know where to find me. Let’s keep the conversation alive. ~XOXO
