My Social Circle Has Shrunk to a Dot

...and Honestly, It’s Perfect

“She knows too much. That’s why I’m keeping her.”

There comes a point in life where your once-bustling social calendar looks more like a sticky note with one name on it.

Your social circle? It’s not a circle anymore.

It’s a dot.

A small, loyal, possibly menopausal dot, and I wouldn’t trade her for anything.

Why? Because making new friends at this age is... a lot.

Let’s be honest:

A) It’s too much trouble to go out and find new friends who don’t think you’re weird.

I’ve earned this weird. I’m not giving it up now. If I want to use the phrase “spiritual fatigue” or eat lunch at 10:45 a.m., I shouldn’t have to explain myself.

B) I have way too much history to rehash, and only about 40% memory retention left.

New people want backstory. My bestie already knows it, or at least pretends to, and that’s good enough.

I don’t have the stamina to explain the bad choices, the kids, the dog, the bankruptcy, the salsa dancing phase, and why hugging strangers gives me the creeps.

C) Inside jokes take years to build, and new people would never understand why I don’t eat animal crackers anymore.

(And no, I’m not telling that story again. It’s tragic and involves a church picnic, a misunderstanding, and cheap wine.)

D) She supports my dreams, my nonsense, and my sudden interest in plastic surgery — without comment or judgment.

She doesn’t gasp when I say “mini lift.”

She simply says, “Do it. And get a Groupon if you can.”

That’s friendship.

She laughs when I can’t find my phone (which is in my hand), agrees that everyone on the internet is wrong, and doesn’t question why I keep backup snacks in my bra.

Together, we are aging disgracefully, laughing loudly, and defending each other’s irrational behavior with unmatched loyalty.

Because in the end, that tiny dot of a social circle?

It’s not small.

It’s concentrated.

It’s all the good stuff, without the fluff.