I have always believed that friendships are what make a life.

They make the joys more fun to celebrate, the struggles easier to navigate and the memories more vivid for remembering.

But when I became a mom and my life looked more like a twisting, dusty road with an occasional tree down than the mostly-straight-and-clear highway on which I’d been cruising prior, I realized friendships were not just nice to have, they were a necessary asset for parenting survival.

That’s where you come in.

My “always” friend.

The one who is always the first I call when that path takes a sharp turn. The one who always answers that call even when you are in the middle of making lunch with three kids at your feet. The one who always knows what to say when I didn’t know I needed you to.

But more than these times you have ALWAYS been there, there have also been the “never” moments. And for those, I equally thank you.

Thank you for NEVER trying to talk me off the bathroom floor . . . and instead, sitting beside me on it. You know those tears have probably been piling up for a while, and you are ready to be my sounding board until I’m ready to stand back up.

Thank you for never giving me the silent treatment when I forget to call you on your birthday. You know I have a thousand things going on, and that our friendship isn’t defined by a single day. And (let’s be honest) you know you will probably forget mine, too.

Thank you for never forgetting me in the middle of your busy life. I know you have your own struggles. Your own schedule. Your own busy-ness. Your own children to raise. But you always find time to text me from the pick-up line or call me while running errands.

Thank you for never getting mad when I don’t call or text you back right away. Instead, you leave a hilarious voicemail re-introducing yourself as someone I “used to know” because I hadn’t called you back in a week and a half. You know I love you. You know I need reminders. And you know I completely forgot that you called. And you will probably do the same in a week.

Thank you for never calling me out on my imperfections. I know I have them and they have shown up in our friendship (and maybe even hurt you at times.)  But you know my heart is in the right place. You know you have imperfections, too. You know it’s worth it to see past them. 

Thank you for never ceasing to amaze me with your thoughtfulness. That coffee cup you left on my doorstep because the quote made you think of me. That book you sent me in the mail that you thought I needed or would love to read. Those flowers you sent me to congratulate me on a goal I reached in my career. Your selflessness never takes a break.

Thank you for never breaking my trust. To know my words won’t hit another person’s ears because they’ve gone into the vault inside our friendship’s safe space is extra weight that doesn’t have to take up residence on my shoulders.

Thank you for never making me feel guilty for asking for help. You have bailed me out when a babysitter canceled. You have let me drop off my kids within minutes when an emergency came up. And when I pick them up? You remind me you’ll be there for me when I need you again.

Thank you for never letting me off the hook when I start showing signs of believing I’m not going to reach my dreams. Whether you do it with kindness or jokingly threaten to tell the world that secret you have about me from high school if I don’t keep going . . . thanks for never letting me do anything less than my greatest.

Thank you for never making me ask for forgiveness and grace. I know you’ve already given it . . . and you’ll remind me of that when I ask for it anyways.

Thank you for never letting miles come between us.

For never letting go of my hand.

For never letting me feel alone.

For never wavering.

For always being you.


Brea Schmidt

Brea Schmidt is a writer, speaker and photographer who aims to generate authentic conversation about motherhood and daily life on her blog, The Thinking Branch. Through her work, she aims to empower people to overcome their fears and insecurities and live their truth. She and her husband raise their three children in Pittsburgh, PA.