Can we still be friends if I talk about my kid?

The other night, I had dinner with some longtime friends. We hadn’t been all together in a while, and I was genuinely excited—starved, really—for adult conversation that wasn’t about snack refusals or nap resistance. I was also craving connection. The kind of soul-nourishing check-in you only get from people who’ve known you for years.

We’d just settled into our second round of drinks when one friend half-laughed, half-begged, “Ok, but can we agree—no more talking about kids for the rest of the night?”

Everyone chuckled. I smiled, too. But something inside me tightened.

Because the truth was, I hadn’t been talking about my son. Not really. I’d mentioned him in passing—an update, a funny story—but I’d already been editing myself, carefully choosing what to say and what to keep in. I was trying to read the room, to not take up too much space with “mom stuff.” I know not everyone is in the same season of life. I know people want to feel seen beyond the roles they inhabit. I want that, too.

But I left that dinner feeling a little lonelier than when I arrived.

When someone asks not to talk about kids, what I hear is: “That part of you? The part that’s most alive and consuming and tender right now? That’s off-limits.” And worse, it feels like it is something they perceive as annoying or bothersome about you. Wanting to talk about my kid is not about wanting to dominate the conversation with diaper blowouts. It’s about being a whole person—and right now, my identity as a mother is a big part of who I am. Not the only part. But an undeniable one.

I get it. We all need breaks from the noise of daily life. We want to laugh and remember who we were before responsibility came rushing in. But I wonder if we could hold space for each other a little better. Make room for the different ways we’re all showing up to the table.

Here’s what I wish I’d said:

I do want to talk about other things—TV shows, work, travel, whatever. I want to hear what’s making you feel alive right now. But I also want to feel like I don’t have to amputate a part of myself to belong here.

So here’s to the friends who ask how your kid is and how your soul is. The ones who make space for your motherhood without making it your whole personality. And here’s to becoming that friend for others, too.

With love,

Katie