I grew up with a mom who wasn't exactly the poster child for friendship. She wasn't mean, but she was sharp; quick to judge, quicker to criticize. If I made a mistake, she'd point it out. If someone fell short, she'd talk about it. If she were a cartoon character, she would have been drawn with a persistent black cloud over her head. And without realizing it, I inherited that lens.

For a long time, I thought that was just how you loved people: by keeping them in line, by pointing out where they could do better. My mom taught me to be judgmental. She had a "gift" where, within minutes of meeting someone, she could find that person's faults, turn them into something toxic, and then, when they were out of earshot, spew her opinion to whoever would listen. Over the years I learned how to do this myself, and trust me, I learned from the very best. It took me years to see that what I thought was "being real" was actually creating distance. My mom's version of friendship was more about critique than connection, and it left me believing closeness always came with conditions.

But here's the beautiful part: life gave me chances to rewrite that story. I can criticize my mom all day long, but at some point I need to look in the mirror. Yep, I lived in a toxic household, but I can only blame myself for being judgmental and whatever other unfavorable traits I may have as an adult. Still, despite my shortcomings, I have enduring and incredibly strong girlfriendships. These women know all about my judgmental side (and have at times experienced it), and yet they have stuck with me for all these years.

In my twenties, I learned that friends don't need a coach, they need a cheerleader. When I softened my instinct to judge, I started celebrating wins instead of nitpicking flaws. Suddenly, I was the friend people wanted to call when something good happened.

In my thirties, I realized that friendship isn't about frequency, it's about safety. I started building the kind of friendships where months could pass without a text, but when we sat down, it felt like no time had gone by at all. That kind of bond requires grace. It is the opposite of my mom's critical voice, and learning to give it has been one of the biggest gifts of my life.

And now, as I get older, I see that being a good friend isn't about fixing anyone. It's about being steady. It's about listening without an agenda, showing up without keeping score, and loving people as they are, not as you think they should be.

My mom didn't teach me that… but she did teach me what it feels like to grow up without it. Maybe that's why I value it so fiercely now.

Friendship is something I've had to learn, and unlearn, in different seasons of my life. It hasn't always been pretty, but I know this much: I am a better friend today than the woman I was twenty years ago. And tomorrow, I'll keep growing into someone my younger self never imagined she could be.

Because sometimes the best way to honor your mom isn't by copying her, it's by choosing to be different.

So, I happily introduce you to my new word: Girlfriendship.

My word Girlfriendship and all it represents are the heart of You Go Girl. This space is your virtual getaway to share with the women in your lives who make you feel safe. Whether they're across the ocean or across the table, they can make you feel the vibe that sometimes only a girlfriendship can provide. It was a revitalizing trip with my best girlfriends; the ones who are genuinely happy for me, the ones who create the safe space for me to tell them the things I can't share with anyone else but can't carry alone anymore that I knew I needed to keep the magic of that reconnection alive. I also knew that I wanted to build something so other women, like you, could experience that too.

So, if you're ready to feel that magic in your own life, I'd love for you to join us. Let's write this next chapter side by side.

I love that you were with me today. I hope you'll come back tomorrow… and maybe even decide to stay.