*Image via.

Since moving back to my hometown, I’ve run into a lot of women who attended my high school, both my graduating year and not. I’ve also run into a lot of women who attended rival high schools, and have been asked, with surprising frequency, “Who were your friends at Visitation?” Across these conversations, I have felt a tugging sense of guilt that I have not stayed in better touch with more than a handful of my girlfriends from high school. My observation is that most of my schoolmates have remained in tight-knit groups since graduating. They’ve been bridesmaids in one another’s weddings; they’ve raised babies together; they still go out on the town together; they exercise nicknames for one another; they leave inscrutable shorthand and inside jokes on one another’s Instagram feeds.

I behave this way, too, but mainly with the friends I made in college.

Why is this? And why do I feel guilty about not remaining closer to all of my high school friends, even though there were no nasty fallouts or ill feelings?

Given the intense sorority of attending an all-girl’s high school, it feels that I have in some way failed the experience, or failed some of my friends from that time. I must acknowledge that there is a kind of clubbiness to attending a rigorous all-girl’s school — an implied rarification. This does not appeal to me, but it exists, and I think my sense of “wrongdoing” might pertain in some oblique way to it. It is as though by going there, I should forever belong there? And I do, in a sense. I loved my high school experience, I regularly participate in its alumni programming, and I am still very close with a couple of girlfriends from that time. I have pondered the symmetry of sending my own daughter there one day. I have treasured crossing paths with former schoolmates at my new parish, my daughter’s new school, through various other social outlets — it has made moving home feel warm, familiar. But I do not seem to be fulfilling the implied graduate role of maintaining an enduringly close sisterhood with all of my friends from that time.

Part of this is sadly circumstantial. One of my best friends from high school died in her 20s, and only after her burial did I realize her role as the lynchpin in my core friend group. On occasion, I still text and meet up with my friends from that group, and it is unusual if Elizabeth’s name does not come up in those interludes. She remains the shared thread between us. I have nothing but love for those women. They are good, salt-of-the-earth people, each of them intelligent and funny and giving. Every now and then, we catch up open-heartedly, going deep into the mysteries and magic of motherhood with the easy intimacy longtime friendship affords. Or we laugh at our high school selves, toss out the names of former love interests, quote from old movies we used to watch in my basement, sling inside jokes at one another. I have the sense that I could call any of them if I needed to, and I hope they feel the same of me. Still. Without Elizabeth, the fabric has grown increasingly loose-knit. I strain to avoid the “what ifs” with Elizabeth, as I find them fruitlessly painful exercises, but I often wonder whether we would all be much closer if she had lived.

Then again.

I came into myself in college. I crawled out of a shell. I defined myself. I was free of the quiet, academic reputation I’d cultivated in high school. I joined a sorority, I fell in love, I faced my own intellectual shortcomings, I learned how to read all over again, I had so much fun. I think I have remained closer to my college friends because I was more like myself — the Jen I am now — while attending the University of Virginia.

I was reflecting on this the other day when I observed that most of my college friends are the same way. Few of them have perdurably close relationships with their high school friends. I am confident that, if asked, each of the women in my core group of college friends would point to one another as their closest friends, even now, closing in on twenty years graduated. It made me wonder whether there was something particular about UVA, or something particular about the kinds of women we were and are, that led to the development of the strong, long-term kinship we have enjoyed.

Are most people closer to their childhood friends, their high school friends, their college ones, their adult ones? Are some people close with all four? Does life-long friendship have more to do with when you “bloom” or the intensity of a shared experience?

These questions interest me because I have found it generative and occasionally healing to write about female friendships — the ones that last, the ones that don’t. After one of my more recent essays on female friendships, a reader wrote to me:

“I shared the post with a friend and she said that perhaps it resonated with so many readers because we aren’t taught to mourn or recognize the ending of female friendships the same way we are with romantic relationships. She pointed out that if someone were to ask about a former best friend, we might be embarrassed or not know how to explain that the friendship has ended. Meanwhile, if it was an unsuspecting question about a now ex, it would feel more normal or comfortable to simply say “we broke up” and everyone would nod, understand and move on.”

This is so true, despite the fact that female friendships can and sometimes do eclipse romantic ones in terms of longevity, depth, certain types of intimacy, even intensity.

What do you think, Magpies? When did you meet your best friends? What conditions led to their strength?

Post-Scripts.

+Female friendships and the things that matter.

+On building friendships through motherhood.

+Focus and the fibers of motherhood.

Shopping Break.

+Target is running some great sales as a part of their “Deal Days” promotion — these 400-count sheets are SO good and already so reasonably priced, but why not stock up while 25% off? We bought a set of these as a back-up for our primary bedroom and they are honestly fantastic for the price. Caveat: I checked the link twice and the first time, they were discounted and the second time, they weren’t? Not sure if they sold out of the relevant discounted styles, or if you’ll see the deal on your end. Anyway, I’m including them regardless of whether they are discounted or not because they are SO good and I often get questions about them from readers! AirPods are also 30% off — I couldn’t live without mine. I hate cradling the phone against my cheek, and I use them to listen to podcasts and audiobooks while walking Tilly. Must have!

+There are also some good deals on toys if you’re already looking ahead to the holidays — this Melissa & Doug cleaning set was such a huge hit with my daughter around the age of two and I love to gift doctor sets to little ones. My children play with ours all the time!

+I am drooling (!!!!) over this chic cape from Officina del Poggio. OMG. I love it so much.

+Love this whole set — knit skirt, knit sweater. In an ideal world, would pair with these suede boots.

+This dress reminds me of Ulla J — great for a fall wedding / cocktail party, and under $200.

+I can’t wait for my Jane Win pendant to arrive! She has a bunch of different motifs — love, balance, strength, etc — but I wanted the “joy” one as a reminder to continue to seek “slices of joy” in my own life.

+Erin Wallace just launched her holiday cards! Just the cutest patterns!

+Guys. I’m so sad I slept on that Italian brushed wool coat from J. Crew because it’s now 40% off and sold out in my size. This hot pink sweater is tempting me, though — also 40% off.

+Wow, super love this new silhouette from La Ligne. Is it too saucy for Thanksgiving? Also pretty in this gold color.

+This Mirth blouse is SO fun! I love the pattern and the ties!

+These scalloped rattan table lamps are a good deal.

+Chic alternative to a Superga-style shoe — comes in really good colors.

+I think I’m going to buy my son a play / train table, and I love this one from C&B because you can add longer legs when the kids get older and use it for homework/art.