I had dinner with my three best friends from school this week. I lost touch with them for a couple of decades and then we reconnected but we haven’t seen each other for a few years. As ever, the ease of being with people who knew you when you were 14 is unrivalled.
Anyway. The first thing we noticed is how much we all look like our mothers.
Or how our mothers used to look when we were at school - the same age we are now. Holy shit. I told my mum this and she laughed. “Every woman wants to hear that she looks like her mother.”
Over dinner we caught up on family news and we were struck by how differently we grew up compared to our kids now.
As Gen X kids, we raised ourselves and always felt a level of responsibility for our parents, the Boomers, even when they were the same age we are now.
We grew up with a strong sense of our parents being people and the innate knowledge that we weren’t their only priority or even their top priority.
This is not a criticism of their parenting. You see, that’s the thing - they were the last generation for whom parent was just a noun not a verb.
Boomer parents would have had their parenting style described as free-range today but it didn’t have a name back then. It’s just what parenting was: not an active practice but a passive description of whether or not you had kids.
It was a fact not feelings. Not a process or a style. Not a scorecard or an identity. Being a parent didn’t seem to be the cause of much angst back then, not from where we were sitting which might have been in a parked car while our parents were inside at the pub. When they went out, they just dragged us along.
Gen X kids have strong memories of falling asleep under tables in restaurants or on random couches when our parents went to dinner parties. At the end of the night, we’d be carried, sleeping, into the car and it’s probably best not to think about the drive home during that time before random breath testing made everyone rethink their choices.
It was a time before mobile phones let alone tracking apps.
My mum and I were reminiscing the other day about one night when I was about 5 and my parents booked a new babysitter for my older brother and I so they could go for dinner with friends.
As you did back then, they left the phone number of the restaurant in case of emergency.
In the middle of dinner, the waiter came over to say there was a phonecall.
The babysitter. An emergency.
”Everyone’s OK but well, Mia was doing a dance performance behind the couch before she went to bed and she must have been standing on the heater and accidentally turned it on because after she went to bed, I smelled smoke and when I came into the loungerooom, the couch was on fire.”
Oh.
”But I managed to put it out and the kids helped me drag the couch outside and I think it’s OK now because it’s just smouldering.”
Goodness, my parents said. Thanks for letting us know. Great job. See you when we get home. And then they continued with dinner.
Before dessert arrived, the babysitter called back.
”The couch re-ignited and then the balcony caught fire so I had to call the fire brigade and they just arrived and put out the flames so you might want to come home. We’re sitting in the garden.”
So anyway.
Things were different back then.
There’s something so……unclenching about being around people your own age, whatever that age is. There’s so much you don’t have to explain.
This was partly the motivation for me developing Unleashed, the new podcast I’m producing which finally launched this week and has been making women laugh until they wee a little bit.
If you’re wondering what all the fuss is about and why women are sharing this show in all their group chats - get ep 1 in your ears. Ep 2 drops on Tues. And ‘follow’ in your pod app by clicking the PLUS sign in the top right corner.
Some things I wore this week…….





And if you want a bit of my voice in your ears, you can listen to the episode of Outloud I recorded with Holly and Jessie where they weighed in on the topic of emaciated women in Hollywood and how we can talk about it……..we all had a lot more to say!
Mia xxxxx































