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LEIGH CAMPBELL: My husband is not my true soulmate, my girlfriends are. Here’s why.

Let me preface the rest of this article by stating that my husband is unequivocally ‘my person’ in this life. I didn't meet him until I was in my 30s, and love made sense when I was finally with the right guy.

But he’s not my soulmate. Not really.

I don't think any romantic partner would be, if it was him or someone else.

Now in my 40s, I've come to the realisation that my female friends are my true soulmates.

I was lucky to develop strong friendships from kindergarten, with little girls who grew into women alongside me, and I still call them best friends until this day.

Image: Supplied.

We went through our first kisses together. First sexual experiences. First heartbreaks that made our chests ache so much we never thought we’d feel better.

Formals. First jobs. Schoolies. Overseas holidays. If it was a rite of passage, we crossed each one by each other's sides.

Then we became adults. We didn't have the closeness of daily school to bring us together physically, but the bond was strong enough to ensure moves across the country, or overseas, or just the general distance that elbows its way into the daily grind thanks to busy, budding lives.

Image: Supplied.

I accumulated new friends along the way. Other grown women on the same path, or with the same interests. Work friends. Friends of partners I’d end up keeping long after the relationships expired. Friends I met in the most unexpected places. 

Women who shared the pain of infertility. Who understood the juggle and didn't mind if it was months between phone calls. Who had clever minds and successful careers or businesses, but that supported each other through failures and breakups and breakdowns.

Other mothers who became life wives. Who would step in to care for my child at the eleventh hour when I was desperate. Who would drop off care packages and send food when I lost my dad and felt like I was drowning in grief…and then did the same for my husband when he lost his dad. Because they loved my husband, too, but mainly because they loved me.

Women who wouldn't try to fix my problems like men are wired to do. They would listen. Hold space. Let me vent and bring wine when needed.

Image: Supplied. 

I feel so incredibly lucky to have a bunch of women like these in my life. Some I’ve known for almost four decades, and others I've known for only four years, but that have become selected sisters to me.

I also acknowledge that not everyone is blessed with friendships of this depth. People move away, or bonds move on, and even break. Not all friendships are for life, and that’s okay – as the saying goes, some are for a reason or a season, if not a lifetime.

But this is my ode to women. 

The women in my life who make me laugh so hard I have streams of happy tears and can't catch my breath. Women who have wiped away tears of sadness in miscarriage, heartbreak and death.

Thank you. 

You make my life so rich, peppered with treasured memories I love to replay in my mind when the trenches of adulthood feel heavy or monotonous. When parenting is thankless and relentless. When being a grown-up, well, sucks.

Thank you for being just a call away, or having a sixth sense when I need a funny meme to give me a little smile. Thank you for holding my hair back, and holding my heart. 

Thank you for being my true soulmate in this short time on earth.

When the time comes, I hope we’re in a commune or retirement village together somewhere, still getting up to mischief and plucking each other's chin hairs …if we can see them.

I love you. 

Image: Supplied + Mamamia. 

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