By Maria Dimarzo 
In the winter of 2021, I had just had my first baby and was rocking him back to sleep in the dreary hours of the night. The moon was shining brightly through my son’s bedroom window—the only light in sight until my phone lit up to a new friend messaging me on a mommy friend app. I had heard that making friends in your 20s could be hard, especially with children, but that there were apps where you could make friends and hopefully make the transition into motherhood easier. Knowing someone else was awake in these silent hours of the night with my eyes nearly crusted over begging for sleep was comforting.
All through my life, I found myself in many different friend groups. I was never popular or not popular. I was just kind of there. I would go above and beyond for people, sometimes putting myself in financial turmoil and jeopardizing my own mental health to ensure other’s happiness. I found myself sitting in cars at midnight with people I wasn’t even sure I liked, to talk them off of a ledge. I found myself having late-night phone calls that turned into all-nighters with friends who were going through difficult times but who wouldn’t answer a text from me. I traveled all around the country to keep friends company who had moved but who wouldn’t check on me even on my birthday.
At one point, before I realized interest was a thing and credit was important, I maxed out credit cards to pay for friends to go on adventures and trips to make sure no one ever felt left out, only to not be invited to go out to lunch with them. I would go above and beyond for just about anyone, leading me in an endless cycle of not being noticed, continuing to do more, and then feeling like I was begging people to be my friends.
I always found it interesting while absentmindedly scrolling through Instagram and Facebook, seeing old classmates getting married and having like 12 bridesmaids. “Where do people make this many close friends?” I would say as I rolled my eyes. These girls were mean, they were bullies, and they surely were not maxing out their credit cards to take anyone to Disneyland.
My “friend dating app” friend who texted me in solidarity that night ended up becoming a good friend of mine. Our children became friends and looked forward to seeing them. We hung out often, and she even introduced me to what we called a “mom squad” of friends. Eventually, they excluded me from their group chat and celebrated their own milestones like baby showers and birthdays without me. I was used to it by this point—as I was always the thrown-away friend, no matter how much effort I put in for others.
You know when you’re taking a test in school and you’re stuck on a question with absolutely no idea when you learned this information and no idea which answer to guess? A and D are almost never right. Now, you’re stuck with B and C. You always guess B so you decide to take a leap of fate and pick C. Friends A and D are busy, You always reach out to B so, eh, might as well try C for a change. That is what being a C friend is like. The last resort, the one you chose every once in a blue moon, the “I feel bad for not picking them” friend.
So, my C friends, get offended. People have their phones in their hands 24/7, if they don’t respond to you in a reasonable amount of time, they’re ignoring you. If others continuously don’t invite you, they don’t deserve your presence. If you feel like you are always reaching out to people who never reach out to you, they don’t deserve your kindness.
If you move mountains and cross oceans for people who won’t even press the send button for you, they don’t deserve your hospitality. If it feels like you are an inconvenience to them, they don’t deserve your patience.
The more you surround yourself with those who return your same energy, the more confident you will become and the more your resources will be utilized on those who are grateful for you.
If they wanted to, they would.
by Cindy Houlden 
by Jenni Brennan 
by Holly Lemons 
