Kristin and I were best friends from elementary school through her graduation. Even after her family moved away in middle school, I would fly to Texas, then Florida, to visit her over the summer. I have so many fun memories of our times together: walking down Harmon Hill after school, prank calling the radio station (we really wanted to hear that song!), talking about boys and laughing over nothing funny.

Things weren’t always beautiful between us, though. I often felt a lot of (probably imagined) judgment from her family. They were very conservative and traditional and…well, we never have been. I even vaguely remember being referred to as a “bad influence” on my dear beloved friend. When I became a teenage mother that feeling became very acute.

The last time we saw each other was almost exactly 10 years ago, the June before Zeb’s first birthday. I had flown to Florida to attend her graduation, as we had promised to do at the age of 13. I was in a strange place in my life, struggling with depression and a real disconnection from Self. I was in a relationship I had yet to realize was doomed and on the precipice of major life changes I couldn’t have anticipated. It was a tumultuous time of change for me to say the least and I was desperate to feel that familiar sense of belonging within our friendship.

Instead I felt slightly outcast being put up with a stranger, and out of sync as I tried unsuccessfully to meld into her circle of friends and family. Our relationship was obviously strained. We had grown into two very different people from two very different walks of life and we struggled to bridge that gap. I flew away from that trip brokenhearted over losing a friend and floundering without that connection.

I know now that change is inevitable, that people grow – sometimes together and sometimes apart – and that all of this is okay. I also understand that my emotions and perceptions shaped my reality in ways that weren’t always true. And when we found each other again online (the internet is a beautiful thing) many of our questions were answered and our feelings understood.

But none of this stopped me from feeling a bit nervous for seeing this dear old friend of mine this weekend, meeting her husband and her son and bridging something long ago lost.

I listened to her talk and recalled with love her voice, her tone, and the strong, fearless nature of the soul I knew and still saw within her. I watched her as she interacted with her child and marveled how two little girls like us could become mothers ourselves. I saw her as she smiled at her sweet Southern man and rejoiced that her life was filled with love.

I’ve often missed the friendship she and I shared and have yet to find that in another. And as I looked upon our vastly different personalities, upbringings and beliefs, I can’t help but wonder if I too often seek out similarities. Were we friends because of or despite our differences or was it simply because of our classroom placement?

I don’t know. Nor do I know if this weekend or any weekends to come will rebuild that bond we once shared.

What I do know is that I have been forever blessed to have shared such a deep and meaningful friendship with such a beautiful, resilient and authentic soul as she. And regardless of where we are or where we’re heading, I’m blessed to still call her my friend.