There’s Power in a Posse

Growing up I had a field behind my house. I loved that field. My imagination and I used to run wild in that field. Then a company bought the field and turned it into a condominium complex. I was resentful until the day I was walking through and met Nicole. I slept at her house that very same night. (What moms would allow that these days?!) And then she and I ran wild through the complex together.

When she moved to town, I introduced Nicole to my other friends. They were my posse, and together we celebrated birthdays and achievements, attended parties and sleepovers, supported each other through heartbreaks and losses, and got into a lot of shenanigans.

I also had my teammates. Sports create a unique bond among teammates. Every day we were working as a unit. We would cheer together, cry together, push each other, and pick each other up. We were sweaty and gross together. We knew each other’s moods, moves, and motivations. We supported each other’s superstitions and routines. We lost as a team, and we triumphed as a team. And together, when we left the field, we got into a lot of shenanigans.

But then we all graduated and split up. Some of us kept in touch, but I moved out of state and didn’t, and still don’t, live close to any of them. I didn’t play sports in college. Instead, I worked. The group of people I hung out with were my coworkers. For those of you who have worked in restaurants, you know what kind of lifestyle that can create. And because I wanted to be in a group, I chose that lifestyle.

Fast forward twelve years, and I was still living that lifestyle. But I was very tired and wanted a change. My go-to solution to making a change had been to pack up and move. The problem was, everywhere I went, I was still in the same place. But I moved again anyway. Although this time, something finally did change: I had a baby. And, although some people don’t consider that a reason to change, I do. So I did. I wasn’t yet sure on the details, but I knew the change had to be profound. So, despite my desire to be in a group, I chose to be alone, because if my daughter’s new life was going to be one she deserved, I needed a new life, too. It was time to get to know myself again, and it was time to start listening for God again.

And so, for four years, I was alone. I worked and I was a mom. I had acquaintances, and I joined a church, but I didn’t have a group of friends like I did before going off to college. But I was fine, because raising my daughter and getting to know my new self were more important. There wasn’t much energy or time leftover anyway.

And then one day I received an invitation to a play date. I was hesitant, but I went. And just like that, I was welcomed into a group of moms. Honest moms who have no problem airing their grievances or admitting when they screw up. This group of women have become my team, my posse. We continue to get to know each other while learning more about ourselves. We build each other up and put each other in check. We laugh with and at each other. And we cry with and for each other.

I needed time alone. I needed to work on my new self and make sure that both my daughter and I got off on the right foot. But this group came along at just the right time. I missed having a tight-knit group of friends like I did as a child. I just didn’t realize how much I missed it until I was in it.

I hope my daughter doesn’t get lost along the way, but if she does, I hope she remembers that she is never really alone, because God is always with her. And while I hope my daughter learns the value of autonomy, I hope she also finds herself in a posse of friends who share mutual trust, admiration, and support. And together, I hope they run wild, and get into a lot of shenanigans.