Magnify

I gave birth to our son last year when my husband and I were living in Germany. For two weeks we had a blissful time learning to parent, eating my mother’s home-cooked meals and visiting with excited friends. Then my parents left, my husband returned to work and our friends stopped dropping by. I was alone with our son – very alone. We lived in a farming village surrounded by woods, cabbage fields and­ neighbors who felt that a nod and a grunt constituted conversation. My job had been in the city, 40 minutes away, where all our friends lived and where our sports team held weekly practices. Pre-baby, it wasn’t a big deal to hop in the car and drive an hour for a dinner party or a football game. But now the baby had to nurse every two to three hours, and when he wasn’t eating, he was sleeping or pooping. Suddenly a two-hour round trip became a daunting proposition. As I wore circles in the carpet trying to coax my son to sleep, I had a lot of time to think. I realized just how important it for women, and especially for mothers, to belong to a community of other women.

Scientists have proven what most of us know intuitively, that social networks are essential for women’s well-being. From Pride and Prejudice and Little Women to Sex and the City and Desperate Housewives, the message remains consistent through the years: we women need our posses. But they’re not always easy to find. For our mothers and grandmothers, joining a community of women was as easy as talking to the neighbors or going to church. Community grew organically out of everyday life. But women’s lives have changed, and now we’re moving at the speed of DSL. We’re more active than ever – we work long hours, we raise our children, we move around, all while trying to squeeze relationships, exercise and a somewhat healthy diet into our scant free time. On top of all that, our towns have also changed. Many of us live in “bedroom communities” – suburbs or developments where there are no stores, restaurants or public places to run into people or meet as a group. It seems like the ready-made communities that embraced earlier generations of women no longer exist. The challenge is at once very basic and very 21st century: how do we find each other?

When we move to a new place we may not have neighbors bringing us meatloaf, but we do have a wealth of resources literally at our fingertips. I’m talking about the internet, of course, a fount of information (both useful and absurd) to which I’m so addicted that I constantly wonder how earlier generations did without. Surfing around, I found that a whole new genre of websites has sprung up with the sole purpose of getting people together. Using meetup.com, I was quickly able to find a playgroup, a parenting group, a writing society and a travel club all within a 15-mile radius. Finally prying my fingers from the keyboard, I returned to the real world and remembered that there are also more traditional ways to meet each other. My local library has an infant story hour that will be perfect for my son, and my friend told me she found her daughter’s playgroup through her pediatrician. Volunteering, too, is a time-tested way to meet women of all ages, and there’s the added bonus of giving back. But research, for me, is the safe part. Homework done, it’s time for me to actually start venturing out.

As it turned out, my seclusion in the German village was neither dire nor permanent, though loneliness made it seem so. We returned to the US three months later and I vowed that I would make connections. Spring is the season of growth, and I am ready to put out some feelers. I offer this challenge to you, as well. Let’s reach out to other women – of all ages. Let’s leave our comfort zone and talk to the woman in the coffee store and the mom in the check-out line. Let’s create community for ourselves. As we stride forward in our busy lives, modern feminists in every sense of the word, let’s not leave behind the skill bequeathed us by centuries of earlier women: that of nurturing female relationships. And maybe next time, when a neighbor moves in next door, you will bolster your courage and bring over a meatloaf and some conversation. Or at least some instant brownies. After all, who has time?

Emily Paterson is a writer and social worker. She lives with her husband, son and two dogs in Atlantic Beach, FL, where they enjoy beachcombing, biking and playing Ultimate Frisbee.