It has been 13 years since my wedding, and I still remember that day in vivid detail. As I stood on the stage beside my husband, I saw my friends gathered in a corner, waving and smiling with pure joy. I knew they were genuinely happy for me. However, beneath my own mix of emotions about leaving my parents’ home, my siblings, and my single life, I felt something deeper.
I was the first in my circle to get married, and that came with a quiet fear. I was stepping into a new world of responsibility while my friends stayed in the comfort of casual freedom. I was worried that I would slowly drift away from them as my life evolved.
Now, looking back, I realize that life gives you multiple chances to bond with the people who really matter to you.
Being the first parent in my circle reshaped my friendships
After the wedding, my friends and I stayed in touch, though we didn’t spend as much time together as we had in the past. After all, I was busy with figuring out my duties in the home, and they were busy with their careers and furthering their education.
Ten months later, my first son was born, and my life changed completely. Sleepless nights, endless diaper changes, postpartum exhaustion, and the challenges of living in a joint family filled my days. Meanwhile, my friends were traveling, growing in their careers, and meeting new people. The contrast was night and day.
I barely had time to scroll through Facebook, but when I did, I would see their posts and feel like I was missing out. When one of them got married, I could not attend her wedding because my son was ill. I felt like I was on a completely different path from my friends.
Years passed, and one by one, my friends entered marriage and motherhood. Slowly, the conversations in our WhatsApp group began to shift. Messages that once revolved around fun college days were replaced with questions about handling married life, pregnancy symptoms, paediatricians, and conflicts with in-laws.
Courtesy of Ariba Mobin
Since I had gone through many of these experiences first, my friends often came to me for advice. I felt proud to be the one they trusted. Whenever someone asked for guidance, I tried to listen carefully and share what I had learned without making them feel judged. I wanted them to know that I was there — not as an expert, but as a friend who had walked the same road, just a little earlier.
I started learning to give the right advice
One night, a friend called, worried about her baby’s teething. I had been through that exact phase with my own children and stayed on the phone with her for over an hour, explaining small ways to comfort the child and calm her own nerves. Then, another friend confided in me about tensions with her in-laws, and I advised her to stay composed and approach things with empathy. Each conversation reminded me how far I had come from that uncertain young mother who once felt left behind.
Still, giving advice never feels easy to me. I often worry about saying the wrong thing or, even worse, oversimplifying someone’s struggle. Over time, I have learned that advice should never be about copying one person’s experience. I know that what has worked for me might not work for someone else. True guidance means helping someone avoid the mistakes you made while leaving space for their own choices.
Courtesy of Ariba Mobin
The real lesson of being the first one to become a mother among my friends
Now, when my friends reach out, I share what I know, but I remind them that every family, every child, and every phase is unique. Parenthood is not a formula that works the same each time. It’s a constant evolution, and you need to show up.
I no longer feel left out or ahead of anyone. We are all walking parallel paths now, just at different stages, learning and leaning on each other along the way.
Looking back, I realize that being the first among my friends to marry and become a mother shaped me in ways I couldn’t see then. It taught me resilience, empathy, and patience. More than anything, it taught me that advice is not about being right, but about being kind, present, and real, because that’s what we all look for in our friends.
