As I go through my Christmas card list, I stop on my small circle of my closest friends for a moment. I wonder if it is unusual to have what seems like such a small quantitative number of people who I consider my very favorites.

My concerns are assuaged by Dunbar’s Number, a theory developed by Robin Dunbar, a professor of evolutionary psychology, who writes that humans cannot maintain more than 150 friendships — or five close friendships — at any given time.

Dunbar's Number is illustrated as a series of concentric circles, with each outer layer including everybody in the inner layer. Each layer is three times the size of the layer directly preceding it, illustrating the number of acquaintances in each 'layer,' from intimates to close friends, best friends, and so forth, moving to Known Names on the outside layer.

I think of the incredible few people who I consider part of my literal ‘inner circle.’ We met at various times and places along the timeline of my life, and each holds a special place in my heart.

One lovely friend I met when we took a random ukulele class with our oldest sons and I was steadily so pregnant with my second that I missed part 2 of the course (which she took, even as she, too, grew increasingly round with her #2 as well). With evenly matched set of children, we spent many days together at the zoo (nursing our second babies in the very unprivate space of the gorilla house), on a sleepover at the Field Museum, exploring parks and markets with strollers and blankets and snacks for our pack of people. Now we can leave the kids behind and enjoy wonderful grown-up date nights with our spouses along for the ride.

My closest BFF, who lives in Brooklyn, whom I met more than 20 years ago, forged a friendship through AIM and raised eyebrows across the cubicle farm in the DotCom Boom days of a San Francisco startup. Our bond has lasted through various moves, divorces, romances, career changes, marriages, and kids. This friendship has been the touchstone of my life. We've been there for the best and worst of times, all made better by knowing the other person is nearby or always ready for a late-night call or text just to check in.

A handsome friend from college who has allowed me to live vicariously through his many International adventures and who now shares his bespoke and glamorous life with an equally handsome and charming husband. He knew me when we were both awkward (not ugly!) ducklings living scrappy dorm-room lives and not the confident swans we have become. We are both grateful for landing in places where we are entirely ourselves, safe, and loved.

The handful of hilarious local moms who are my local support, and my village, ready with a pickup or drop off of our kids or a dose of ibuprofen or something stronger, with unfailing love and support through the stages of school choices and challenges. They are ready for help of all sorts and the occasional urgent text suggesting a Sunday afternoon cocktail: "Because if I don't get away from my family, who I love dearly, I may go insane." These are modern women who balance work lives and marriage and all the things while somehow managing to stay in touch. They are my everyday people with whom so much needs never to be said, but somehow, we're always talking.

As I seal the envelopes of the Christmas cards addressed to each of these incredible people, I hope they know how much I love and treasure them. In a world where self-worth is often measured in followers of varying quality, I am thankful and blessed for those in my closest circle, small in number but more valuable than any gift I’ve ever received.

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This essay also appeared in the December 2022 issue of FLM - Fete Lifestyle Magazine.