My iPhone buzzed. I looked down at the text message on the glowing blue screen. The words took a moment to sink in. It was like being back in primary school and discovering you hadn't been invited to your friend's sleepover, only worse.
"Hi," the text began. "Just letting you know there's no Pilates tonight. We're all going to The Hub to C an indie music jam. SAT! C U next week 😀."
I put my phone down and stared numbly around my kitchen. Dirty dishes jammed the sink. My toddler's banana was smeared all over the fridge door, but I couldn't gather the energy to wipe it clean. The monotony of life as a stay-at-home mom was starting to get to me. And while I knew I was lucky to have everything I'd worked for—family, a new apartment, financial stability—I also knew that I had never felt so lonely.
"C U next week."
I'd joined the Pilates group shortly after we'd moved to the Gold Coast in an effort to meet new people. At first, I felt I'd fit in. The five or six other women who attended were a bit younger than me, but we shared an interest in organic markets, the beach, and environmental protection.
The one thing we didn't have in common, however, was kids.
I looked out the window at the...