MAYA ROSE FERNANDES
If you’ve ever had a friendship break-up, then you’ll understand what I’m writing about here. I’m not talking about those friendships where betrayal, manipulation and deceit were at the heart of the break-up.
I’m talking about the kinds of friendships you outgrew for whatever reason.
My first real friendship heartbreak happened in my late twenties when someone very close to me, who’d I’d met in my late teens at university ended our friendship of about 12 years quite abruptly over a phone call.
He was behaving in a way that didn’t align with my values anymore, had said some disagreeable things I called him out on.
I’ve realised that I’ve been tolerating a lot more than I was willing to in most of my connections, especially when my values began to change and shift as I focused more on my personal development and my emotional health.
When I told him that I respectfully didn’t agree with what he’d said, but still considered him a friend, he said that if I wasn’t on board with his personal choices, we couldn’t be friends anymore.
The sudden abandonment struck me hard, but I realised that we’d outgrown each other’s values.
I wasn’t okay having anyone in my life who wanted to break up with me over the phone instead of attempting repair in person, after so many years of friendship.
After a short period of mourning, I realised that I was completely ready to move on from that friendship, and never looked back.
The Pandemic brought into focus, for me, what I really valued in my life. I’ve been spending the post-Pandemic years refining and honing in on what my emotional needs are and how to fulfil them, after decades of struggling without getting them met.
To be fair, if one doesn’t know what they are, how can one get them met?
I’ve realised that I’ve been tolerating a lot more than I was willing to in most of my connections, especially when my values began to change and shift as I focused more on my personal development and my emotional health.
A few friendships, that were a few years old, fell away after I realised that they were steeped in co-dependency-like, people-pleasing behaviours. People were benefitting from the emotional safety I gave them without reciprocation and they’d quickly evolved into one-sided connections.
To be fair, these friends lacked the capacity to reciprocate, and I learned this the hard way.
In moments when I sought emotional support, I found emotional abuse and lack of empathy instead.
One friend turned out to be completely self-centered and it took me awhile to notice she never asked me about how I was doing, but just ranted on about what new drama had taken over her life, using me as her emotional lever to process it.
A few friendships, that were a few years old, fell away after I realised that they were steeped in co-dependency-like, people-pleasing behaviours.
Another friend who’d declared that he considered me a close friend, ended up being repeatedly verbally abusive to me when I tried to reach out for emotional support during particularly difficult times I was going through.
He also freely gave unsolicited advice about personal shares with respect to my life, without my consent, and seemed to believe that close friendships should have no boundaries, unless he was the one laying them down.
When I finally ended that friendship, it was only with hindsight that I remembered that he’d actually warned me upfront that he was self-absorbed and opportunistic, among other things (none of them good).
I’ve since learned to believe people when they tell me that they’re not good enough for me.
As much as there’s a part of them reaching out for me to disagree and validate them, I’ve found that this statement is a warning from them that they’re going to be unaccountably hurtful and they’ve given me an upfront disclaimer.
In the past my people-pleasing would have stepped in and given them the validation. Now, I heed the warning and step away.
The toughest part is grieving the loss of a friendship, because, nothing is black and white, really. The longer the friendship, the deeper the emotional entanglement, and the more time passes, the stronger the memories of the good times together.
It’s tough to let go of a friendship that gave you much goodness, even though it has run its course and something feels misaligned now. It’s natural to outgrow healthy relationships too, but those can fade away due to other reasons.
Letting go of a friendship becomes more difficult if one is facing daunting loneliness on the other side of it. Many of us take for granted the ease with which friendships are formed at school or university or at work.
Everyone struggles to meet new, like-minded people and make new friendships outside of those spaces unless they’re the most grounded extrovert ever.
Rather than forcing a friendship that no longer feels like a good fit, is to listen to the parts of you that have evolved beyond it and identify what is missing in that moment.
In this age of social anxiety, people are struggling more than ever. Just read my previous column on loneliness if you disagree.
We forget that forging friendships that are worthy and remain take effort, attention and nurturing. This also means letting go when we outgrow them, which is a likely outcome over time.
From a metaphysical perspective, we need to remember that letting go allows for the new to come in.
The thing to do, rather than forcing a friendship that no longer feels like a good fit, is to listen to the parts of you that have evolved beyond it and identify what is missing in that moment.
Then you’re better placed to either adjust your expectations around that friendship or nurture new friendships that better match your ever evolving values and expectations.
The key thing is to learn from the experience, feel gratitude for the goodness that friendship gave you and move forward, in whatever way is appropriate for you, with hope and grace.
It’s just a matter of time and effort before your newfound clarity will bring in more of what you’re looking for, in all of your connections.