“She doesn’t want to be my friend anymore.”
We have certainly been there. As a mother of young children, I have unfortunately heard both of my children sadly declare this statement. Relational aggression in young children is a real thing and it happens far earlier than I was prepared for. It forced us to have discussions about complex, relational feelings and emotions much earlier than anticipated.
As an adult, though, this doesn’t really happen, right? That’s what I thought, until it happened to me.
I have a long history of great relationships with women, yet when it comes to my current circle of friends, it’s relatively small. Which, for me, is perfectly fine. I would much rather a few, strong friendships than have a huge circle of people that I don’t truly love being around.
Friendships change, shrink and expand, I get that, but I wasn’t necessarily prepared for a friend to leave me.
As I look back at some of my relationships, I see that many were situational. We were friends because we worked together, had class together, the list goes on. Situational friendships are like the seasons, they come and go, but they can be just as wonderful as life-long ones.
When I first started teaching, the greatest blessing, besides our amazing principal, was the women I worked with. This was a group of strong, kick-ass bitches who persisted daily to get shit done.
We were faced with a number of challenges but consistently greeted each day with a passion and joy that permeated the school. We were smart, beautiful, hard-working, and clearly committed to our job and each other.
While I’m no longer teaching there, I’m still very much in contact with many of these women. I could call any one of them tomorrow and pick up right where we left off. Some of us, 15 years later, still exchange Christmas cards!
My friendships now are different. They really are no longer situational, in large part because my life is relatively permanent.
I’m not working my way through college and I’m (thankfully) no longer in graduate school. I’m firmly planted. So, it was my assumption that one friendship in particular was established for the long haul as well.
We were friends. We lived close to each other so getting together was a regular occurrence. We talked and laughed through play dates with our kids that lasted for hours. It was easy and I could tell her just about anything.
She was the next person, after my husband, to know I was pregnant with my second child. She called me when there was an emergency with one of her children.
She called me to share cupcakes. There were so many things that signaled friendship permanence – kids’ ages, school, church, proximity. It just made sense that we’d always be friends.
I realized one day, somewhat out-of-the-blue that the calls to chat and texts to set up play dates were totally lopsided. It stopped me in my tracks.
When it came to flexing the friendship muscle, I was the only one doing all the heavy lifting. I felt a flush of embarrassment. Was I the only one interested in keeping this friendship alive? Should I say something?
I tried to assure myself that I was imagining it all, so instead of an awkward, dramatic confrontation, I pulled back. I intentionally pulled back for about a week to see what happened. Nothing. I swallowed hard.
Her birthday came along and even though we had not talked or texted for a few weeks, I knew it was her birthday. It’s one thing if I forget, but to knowingly ignore someone’s birthday is something I just can’t do, so I sent her a birthday text along with birthday cake and celebration emojis. I felt a pang of embarrassment but I knew it was the right thing to do.
After that, the friendship went completely dark.
I spent some time during the weeks after rummaging through my memories trying to figure out what happened.
Was it something I did? Something I said? Was I not enough for her? Was I too much for her? The truth is, I will never know and I am thankfully to a place now that I really don’t want to know. I don’t want to unearth something that I likely can’t do anything to fix, repair, or remedy.
It’s over and I have to be okay with that.
I know that I will never be everything for anyone, and that may mean people will leave me. I guess I’d rather have a painful breakup than stay in a friendship that isn’t healthy. Especially if the other person doesn’t want to be friends any more.
If ending the friendship was best for her then honestly, I am happy for her.
The thing is, though, when we were friends, we talked about exactly that. Doing what’s best for yourself no matter what. She was often stuck in situations unable to get out of because of the fear of upsetting those around her.
I encouraged her often to make the decision that was best for her – not to worry about what other people thought. “Do what’s best for you and your family. Even if other people don’t like it.”
So, maybe I should have seen this coming? Well, maybe not.
Friendships come in and out of our lives for seasons and sometimes for reasons. While I enjoyed this friendship for the season, all I can hope for is that it existed for a reason.
i guess I just don’t understand how – in a strong friendship – you can just make assumptions as to why she stopped reaching out without asking straight out. Is it possible that because you had fallen into the main instigator role – she assumed you didn’t want to be friends? As an adult – communication is key – It seems to
me that you weren’t that vested in the friendship if you didn’t just ask what was going on, rather than make assumptions.
Exactly!
Happened to me too, and it took a long time to get over.
I’m that friend. I was raised by wolves..I have no social skills to make or maintain friendships. No family ot close siblings, cousins. No examples of how to be a friend. When people asked ne to do things, I just did them. But I never reciprocated. Just didnt get it. I can even make strong connections. But I didnt know how to maintain them. Didn’t realize that you should take turns initiating activities. Have a terrible fear of phone calls due to a childhood trauma. So I lost a great friend. A soul sister. The best bud I ever had. I can imagine her writing this article. For a scary minute was afraid to read the byline thinking it was her. I’ve done alot of introspection and growing in the decade since I threw away that friendship, but she never could open back up and trust me the same way. Just writing to say, it’s not you, it’s her. (Me)
This happened to me too. We were best friends who considered each other family. We shared parts of ourselves that no one else will ever know. We planned growing old together. It took me longer than a few months to see what was going on. It took me more than a full year. After I saw what was going on, I stopped reaching out to her. A couple of months later her daughter, who we all but raised together for years, was graduating from high school. I knew everything would be okay once I received the invitation to her graduation. It never came. That was three years ago. A year ago I did a little cyber stalking and discovered that she and her fiance had bought a house together, in another state, months before our friendship officially ended. Apparently she had truly checked out of our relationship a year before I knew, and she was just waiting for me to figure it out. She is a cruel person. She basically chose to “die” and leave me to pick up the pieces alone. Oh, and during the time she was ghosting me, a few of my close friends died, I got transferred to new cities twice within a year, my boyfriend broke up with me, and I got laid off. I had stuck by her side with two gay husbands, one abusive, a drug addict son, a daughter with a debilitating disease, a controlling fiance, her cheating on her fiance, and her working in a toxic environment job. Hmm. Maybe I am better off. Either way, I’m still pissed.