Free shipping on all orders over $75🎄

Whether it’s the delivery man asking for a signature, a stranger who needs directions, or an acquaintance stopping in for an impromptu visit, I don’t do so well with unexpected guests.

A “be there in 10 minutes” message will send me into panic mode as I scurry frantically around the house tossing randomly discarded articles of clothing toward the hamper, shimmying into something presentable, brushing on a touch of mascara, and hiding the remnants of my toddler’s all-impressive Teddy Graham breakfast.

I so do not have it all together, and I spend far too much time trying to mask that truth from the world.

But never from you, my dearest mama friend. You embrace me, mess and all.

When you shoot me a text to let me know you’re on your way, I survey the house, shrug my shoulders, throw on my most frequented pair of sweatpants, and fall onto the couch to await your arrival.

I don’t bother to open the door when I hear your tires in the driveway, just as you don’t bother to knock—instead you walk right in and kick your mismatched-socks feet up next to mine.

We talk about all the things: the latest episode of that TV show we’re both hooked on, the awesome deal we scored on shoes the week before . . . parenting successes, parenting failures, our lost sense of self, tension in our marriages.

I tease you about the awkward thing you said last week, and you poke at the overlooked stash of Goldfish in the crack between my couch cushions.

We go from heavy burdens of the heart to laughter and back again seamlessly, like the changing directions of the wind.

That’s the way this friendship rolls, and I don’t say it nearly enough—but I am so darn thankful for the realness between us.

I’ve never had a friendship quite like this, you know. In truth, before you, I never realized such a thing existed.

Sure, my love for “best friends” of years past runs deep, but this is new to me—this authentic, unconditional, unassuming, constant type of friendship we share.

The kind of friendship that understands that unreturned text messages, busy schedules, and cancelled plans aren’t grounds for quick annoyance or dismissal.

The kind that is available at all hours of the day and night.

The kind that doesn’t require unnecessary apologies—not for the state of our home or the choice of our clothing or the way we feel.

The kind that never seems forced.

The kind that won’t give into competition over who is the better wife, mother, or friend.

The kind that doesn’t dabble in masked emotions or carefully chosen words.

The kind that grows over cups of coffee, and glasses of wine, and second helpings of dessert.

The kind of bond where I can be me and you can be you, and we love each other fully in all of our beautiful, messy, authentic glory.

To say that I appreciate this thing we share would be an understatement in the fullest sense of the word.

This friendship of ours?

It has brought me life.
It has made me better.
It has shown me my truth.
It has taught me to love myself in a way that took me so very long to learn.

It is so many different things on so many different days, but above all—it’s real.

What a gift it is to have someone who knows every side of me and appreciates me, not regardless of, but because of, all that I am.

What a gift it is to share this messy friendship with you.

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our new book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available now!

Order Now

Casey Huff

Casey is Creative Director for Her View From Home. She's mom to three amazing kiddos and wife to a great guy. It's her mission as a writer to shed light on the beauty and chaos of life through the lenses of motherhood, marriage, and mental health. To read more, go hang out with Casey at: Facebook: Casey Huff Instagram: @casey.e.huff

Hey Friend, Meet Me in the Mess

In: Friendship, Living
Friends smiling

If you come to our home, you’ll likely see a basket of folded or unfolded laundry waiting to be put away. You may even see a pile of dirty clothes hanging out by the washer. If you come to our home, you’ll likely find spitty bits in the sink from where little kids brushed their teeth in a hurry and forgot to rinse. Despite my best efforts, they always seem to find their way back. If you come to our home, there’s a 50-50 chance the beds will be made. If they were made, there’s a high chance they were...

Keep Reading

Your Husband Needs Friendship Too

In: Faith, Friendship, Marriage
3 men smiling outside

As the clock inches closer to 7:00 on a Monday evening, I pull out whatever dessert I had prepared that week and set it out on the kitchen counter. This particular week it’s a trifle, but other weeks it may be brownies, pound cake, or cookies of some kind. My eyes do one last sweep to make sure there isn’t a tripping hazard disguised as a dog toy on the floor and that the leftover dinner is put away. Then, my kids and I make ourselves scarce. Sometimes that involves library runs or gym visits, but it mostly looks like...

Keep Reading

When You Need a Friend, Be a Friend

In: Friendship, Living
Two friends having coffee

We have all seen them—the posts about the door always open, the coffee always on, telling us someone is always there when we need support. I have lived with depression my entire life. From being a nervous child with a couple of ticks to a middle-aged woman with recurrent major depressive and generalized Anxiety disorder diagnoses. Antidepressants, therapy, writing, and friends are my treatments. The first three are easy, my doctor prescribes antidepressants, I make appointments with a therapist, and I write when I feel the need. RELATED: Happy People Can Be Depressed, Too The fourth is hard. As I...

Keep Reading

Give Me Friends to Do Everyday Life With

In: Friendship
Two women at a sporting stadium, color photo

She sees me coming. A small wave from her house window and a silent invitation to come on over for our morning coffee. An unsaid invitation to connect with someone who gets the joys and challenges of being a mother. A quick, small, and valued break from life and stress and my house messes has become the perfect way to start the morning. A neighbor who has become a dear friend. Prior to this encounter, alarm clocks were ringing, breakfast was made, backpacks were packed, and shoes were missing. School mornings are rough. Motherhood is rough. The world around us...

Keep Reading

Sometimes Friendship Is Tested

In: Friendship
Two women friends hugging

Sometimes our own experiences can be hard on our friends, especially when those experiences have to do with fertility and pregnancy. My friend and I met when our children were six months old at a mom’s group Christmas party. She was the only other mom there without a partner, her husband having refused to attend in favor of playing video games in the silence of an empty home just like mine. Her son was a day younger than my daughter. Although she was almost 10 years older than me, we became fast friends, bonding over the loneliness that is staying...

Keep Reading

Give Me Friends Who Aren’t Keeping Up with the Joneses

In: Friendship, Living
Woman standing outside, color photo

Following trends is nothing new. Long before Kitsch curls and Lululemon belt bags, there were perms and, well, the original fanny packs. There’s been a constant, circulating rotation of must-buys for us to feel cool or relevant. And we women have been especially pressured to think we need these things to be accepted and part of the elusive village. Keeping up with the Joneses (or Kardashians for that matter) has just never been my thing. There are plenty of reasons why I’ll never be called a trendy girl: I can’t afford to be one. I lack the stylish eye required....

Keep Reading

Lifelong Friends Are Golden

In: Friendship, Living
Smiling group of women friends

They know all your secrets. They can name your old elementary and high school crushes, your most embarrassing moments, your biggest regrets. They know the one you love and the ones that got away. They celebrate your greatest achievements and empathize with your wish-you-could-do-overs. You don’t have to be wordy in texts, phone calls, or conversations—you get one another. Weeks, months, and sometimes even years may pass, and you pick up right where you left off. Laughter with your crew is like none other—unrefined, unrestrained, childhood bliss relived. RELATED: Good, Long Distance Friendship is Hard But So Worth it You’ve...

Keep Reading

Thank You for Being a Friend Who Grieves Beside Me

In: Friendship, Grief, Loss
Friends with arms around each other photographed from behind

My loss has been one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to endure, and I honestly don’t know if I would be here without you and your love and support. To cry with you and to you. To sit with you in silence or filled with so many words. To feel you holding me literally and emotionally with your gentle and loving arms. RELATED: I’m the Friend With the Dead Mom To understand and witness that my loss is a loss to you too, and to feel that importance of my friendship and life to you. To randomly break...

Keep Reading

As Our Children Get Older, Friends with Young Kids Are Such a Beautiful Gift

In: Friendship, Motherhood
Woman with two young girls, color photo

When I walk into our neighborhood pool these days, I’m often greeted by a small, usually wet, 4-year-old. Her face lights up and she runs toward me, wrapping her arms around my legs, and looking up at me from behind turquoise goggles. We bonded a few months ago when I decorated her wrist with an assortment of rainbow-colored, rubber bracelets and filled her a plate of marshmallows and strawberries. Now she draws pictures for me, jumps to me in the shallow end, and runs toward me if she spots me somewhere.   Sometimes her mom, who is a dear friend...

Keep Reading

Friend, It’s Okay to Say No

In: Friendship, Motherhood
Woman holding coffee cup sitting by window and relaxing

Last week I hosted a sleepover birthday party for six girls. Six 5-year-olds descended on our house, invited by me in a weak moment of expansiveness and generosity to my 5-year-old’s birthday wishes. I fed them pizza and ice cream cake. They demanded candy. They staged a disco party. They stayed awake past midnight. Almost everyone cried at some point. The next morning—after serving six waffles with whipped cream, not with butter, why don’t you have strawberries?—I felt exhausted and annoyed at myself for taking this on. It was unequivocally a terrible idea. I should’ve known it was too much....

Keep Reading