Everyone Gets a Cabin
Recently, I had the honor of being published in the Western Colorado Voices Anthology. My piece was a short story about my perfect world—my friends and I living on a shared piece of land in a mountain valley, each with our own cozy cabin. It was dreamy and easy to imagine, a world I’m sure many of us can relate to—especially those of us with long-distance besties.
How incredible would it be if we could all live communally and raise our kids together, right?
While writing this story, I had a certain friend group in mind—a small circle of girls I’ve been best friends with for over 25 years. We’ll be friends forever—a built-in family to help navigate all of life’s twists and turns. It was an ode to the friendship I’ve built with them, a love letter of sorts.
I posted a snippet of the story on Instagram and got a few messages from newer friends asking, “Can I have a cabin too?”
Honestly, that thought hadn’t occurred to me.
I mean, of course, you can have a cabin too. But why did I only reserve these fairy tale cabins for my oldest friends?
It got me thinking about friendship.
Some of us are lucky enough to keep our childhood friends close as we age. But navigating new adult friendships? That’s a whole different experience.
In her book The Let Them Theory, Mel Robbins explains how making friends is easier when we’re young because we move through life together. We have school, sports, activities—all built-in opportunities to connect. As adults, we have to work harder. We have competing priorities pulling at us from every direction—work, kids, pets, dinner, laundry, aging parents. Finding and maintaining new friendships takes effort.
And oof, do I relate.
I’ve taken a different path than many of my peers. I moved to New York City right after college, then to the suburbs outside “the city”, and eventually to a state 2,000 miles away. Meanwhile, many of my friends stayed—or returned—to our hometown.
By the way, I get it. Glastonbury, Connecticut is honestly kind of perfect: beautiful homes, rich history, endless apple orchards, and arguably the best Whole Foods in America. (The closest one to me now is over three hours away… but that’s a grievance for another day.)
And so, from thousands of miles away, I sometimes watch with a twinge of envy—old friends gathering for birthday parties, hayrides, boat shenanigans on the CT river… APPLE FEST.
Meanwhile, I’m here with my husband and kids, living a life I love—grateful, full—but still missing that easy closeness that only lifelong friendships bring.
For a while, I kept trying to recreate the same kind of bond I had with my core girlfriends. I measured every new friendship against that blueprint—and, not surprisingly, nothing quite measured up.
That led to loneliness, frustration, and self-doubt.
But then I changed my mindset.
I realized I was a different person when I met those girls—I was young. Our bond is so deep because we grew up together. We know each other’s histories, heartbreaks, awkward phases, and inside jokes that go back decades.
I’ve grown a lot since those days. And the friendships I have now? They reflect that growth—deep, beautiful, full of meaning and possibility. I’m beyond grateful for them.
So yeah… long story short: everyone gets a cabin. ♥️
