I still remember the first time I hugged you—partly because you hate hugs. You’ve never been the touchy-feely type, but that day, you let me. And it was one of those small, silly moments that somehow felt big. Because it wasn’t just a hug—it was trust. It was friendship in its earliest stage, already taking root.
We’ve lived life side by side in ways most people never get to. We were pregnant at the same time, navigating swollen ankles, endless cravings, and those “please don’t talk to me until I’ve had caffeine” mornings. We’ve survived exhaustion, laughter, and the kind of emotional rollercoasters that only someone in the trenches with you truly understands.
And through it all, we never drifted—not really. Life got busier. Babies turned into toddlers, work days bled into long nights, and free time became a rare luxury. We don’t see each other as often as we’d like, and sometimes weeks pass without even a conversation. But the thing about having a person—your person—is that the connection doesn’t fade with distance.
You are my safe place. My sounding board. My partner in sarcasm. My reminder to breathe when life feels too heavy. The one who celebrates my victories like they’re your own, and the one who can read the truth in my voice even when I say, “I’m fine.”
So here’s to us—to the hugs you tolerate for me, to the talks we manage to squeeze in, to the belly laughs in between the chaos, and to a friendship that’s not defined by how often we see each other, but by how fiercely we show up when it counts.
You’re my person. And I’m so thankful I found you.
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