Yesterday an essay I wrote was the headlining piece on Huffington Post Women. It was entitled My Friend Got Pregnant! Why Couldn’t I Be Happier For Her? It wasn’t easy to publish this piece — it’s about a time in my life when I was at my worst as a friend — but it’s about an issue that I think a lot of women experience. True to the title, it’s about how one of my best friends got pregnant when I was 26 and how I had a really hard time being happy for her about it.
Funny enough, the friend I write about in this essay happened to arrive in Los Angeles this week with her family for a visit. Holly and I have been friends for something like 17 years now, and I couldn’t be more grateful that our friendship has evolved through so many phases of our complicated lives. And I’ll never stop being grateful that she had the wisdom and compassion to forgive me for my horrible behavior all that time ago.
The point I eventually come to in my essay is that figuring out how to become a woman is not always the most graceful experience that we’ll go through and that often we forge this path alongside our best friends, helping each other to figure things out as we go. What’s important is that the process is an evolving one and if you stick it out long enough, always worth it.
Me and Holly at age 25, drunkenly cooking Thanksgiving dinner in LA:
Trying on wedding dresses at age 26 for Holly’s wedding:
Me holding Holly’s daughter Loretta on the day she was born:
Our kids playing together yesterday on the beach in Malibu:
Me and Holly, yesterday at El Matador. (I’m not sure what that weird sunspot is but I like that it’s right where my baby’s head is!):