Somebody asked me if I knew you. A million memories flashed through my mind, but I just said, I used to.
— Unknown
This post was inspired by my friend Louise who sent me a short video from a day trip to Mallorca. After showing me the blue sky, sandy beach, and palm trees Louise focused on a magazine open beside her. “I’ve just been reading this article,” she said. “I thought you’d find it interesting.” The article was Why don’t we treat friendship breakups as seriously as romantic ones? by Michelle Elman. According to the magazine, the author “has had her fair share of heartbreak but when her best friend of eight years ghosted her, she felt a new, confusing kind of loss.”
Louise was right. Friendships, especially mutually supportive ones, are important to both of us. We’ve been firm friends since we met online in 2019. Coincidentally, her trip to Mallorca fell on the fourth anniversary of us meeting in person for the first time. That morning I’d shared social media memories of us at my local coffee shop and sitting together on my favourite bench.
Breakups and Emotional Honesty
But this blog post isn’t about close friendships. It’s about the ending of close friendships. Louise and I have yet to experience anything approaching a breakup. I don’t think we’ve had so much as a serious disagreement or argument. I hope we never do, but I’m not complacent. Over the course of my adult life many friendships have had issues and disagreements, up to and including total breakups. The breaks haven’t all been as permanent as they appeared at the time. Some have never been repaired but I’ve reconnected with several friends after shorter or longer periods apart. In a few cases that’s happened more than once.
A friendship which breaks and resumes can be stronger for the experience, but that’s not automatic and cannot be assumed. Growth requires a willingness to examine what led to the breakup in the first place. Simply picking up where you left off won’t address the underlying differences or issues. This isn’t easy work. There have been times I’ve held back from asking the important questions — What really happened? Did I hurt you? What do we need to guard against or watch out for? How can we do this better? — because I was scared to uncover the truth. As I’ve written previously, it can be easier to permanently end relationships — or allow them to end — than deal with the reality of them changing. A little more courage and honesty on my part might have saved a great deal of hurt over the years, for me and the other people involved.
Each breakup was unique to that friendship and to that time. In some cases the responsibility is easily attributed. I was largely responsible for some breakups, less so for others. Reasons and responsibility aside, how did it feel? How will it feel next time (because there will be a next time)? In my experience, there are three breakup scenarios. When it feels right, when it feels wrong, and when you don’t understand what’s happening.
When It Feels Right
As hard as any breakup is, there are times when you recognise things have run their course and separation feels natural, if not inevitable. The following insight came to me after one such parting.
In the end there comes a time when you are ready to let go. Not because you stopped caring about them. But because you started caring about you.
That breakup was no one’s fault but that’s not always the case. There are situations where the connection itself has become toxic. In that case, ending the friendship is not only appropriate but healthy. There’s wisdom in recognising that the toxicity doesn’t always come from the other person. As I’ve written elsewhere, “maybe you were an asshole and they needed to push you away for their safety and well-being.” I explored this further in a post discussing healthy boundaries.
Not all relationships are healthy, however. I have had to acknowledge the concept of toxic relationships: not as a label of judgement or blame, but as a valuable descriptor. This has been hard, not least because I have far more examples of me being toxic to others than of others being toxic to me.
This was often down to me being either overly attentive or insufficiently engaged. These scenarios are not unconnected. There were times when I overcompensated and held back from a friend for fear of overwhelming them or causing concern. There are echoes of this in two poems of mine from long ago. The first was written during a period of upheaval within my circle of friends. I navigated what was happening very poorly. Worse, I withdrew from people who had a right to expect my empathy and support.
Mothly,
how i ache to understand you,
neither comfort nor console
but holdyou .then a fiercer
flame repels: the memory
of another that my flutterings
confused (an age too long ago.— from “Mothly”
The second was addressed to a new friend.
i feel i’ve found a newfriend
in you .someone to think fondly of
speak fondly to, afraid though i
might hurt you (like the rest)
by coming on too strong— from “untitled three”
I hope I’ve developed some emotional maturity in the intervening years, but I’d never judge someone for exiting a friendship — with me or anyone else — that felt toxic or worrisome to them.
When It Feels Wrong
There are breakups which just feel wrong. Something happened between you but it feels like it should be fixable. Except it isn’t. Or wasn’t. Or it might have been but somehow a line was crossed. It feels worse because of that sense of injustice. Whatever happened, the consequences seem disproportionate to the offence.
If that’s how you feel, check your assumptions. You may have hurt your friend far more than you anticipated or imagine. Maybe they misunderstood your intentions. Maybe you meant nothing by it. But you don’t get to tell your friend how to feel or respond. Actions have consequences. Apologise if it’s not too late, but respect their right to act however seems appropriate to them, up to and including ending your friendship.
It’s not always your fault, of course. Maybe your friend crossed a red line and you’re not prepared to ignore it or set it aside. I’ve walked away from very few friendships in my life, but there have been a few occasions when it felt the only thing to do.
When You Don’t Understand What’s Happening
And then there are the breakups where you don’t understand what’s happening at all. Maybe it’s your fault. Maybe it’s theirs. Maybe there’s really no one at fault. Earlier today I checked my social media “memories” and was reminded of a day trip to the coast with a new friend, fifteen years ago. Nothing went wrong between us, but that excursion was never repeated and the friendship lapsed. It was the gentlest of breakups with no lasting hurt beyond my incomprehension. The day had seemed so promising.
The hardest endings are where there’s been a breakdown in communication. It’s hard to resolve things and move forward together, or part gently, when you’re scarcely talking. The mixture of pain and confusion is expressed perfectly by Taylor Swift in her song The Story of Us.
I’d tell you I miss you but I don’t know how.
I’ve never heard silence quite this loud.Now I’m standing alone in a crowded room
And we’re not speaking and I’m dying to know
Is it killing you like it’s killing me?
The song triggers painful memories. In the midst of an emotional maelstrom forty years ago I told my best friend, “It feels like you’re someone I knew a long time ago.” The words were honest but it appals me that I said them to someone who meant the world to me and was both vulnerable and hurting. What made it worse was that my friend was attempting to reach out. Not necessarily to explain — some things are beyond explanation — but to reconnect. I was confused and upset, but that’s no excuse. I handled things poorly and treated my friend with far less compassion and understanding than she deserved. We moved forward, though it’s arguable if things were ever the same. (If you read this, I’m sorry. I will always be sorry.)
There are more recent examples. Other friends. Other breakdowns in communication. In each case things would have been easier if we’d been able to talk. To ask what was going on. To challenge each other as to what we wanted. It’s not always easy.
How to Handle Your Next Friendship Breakups
Until I met Fran I’d always considered a broken friendship to be a failure. She taught me that not every friendship has to last forever and that sometimes letting go is the healthy thing to do. Recognising that any friendship can end heightens rather than diminishes their importance. Good friendships don’t happen by accident and are worth fighting for, as is any relationship.
Louise offered me the following insight. “The magazine article was saying how we get kind of ‘prepared’ for the fact that in life we’ll experience relationship breakups; but not in the case of friendships. I see a lot of people struggle when this has happened.” I think that’s true. We have an idealised view of friendship. We believe that “real” or “true” friendships last forever. From that mistaken premise follows the unhealthy idea that a friendship which ends was never real in the first place, so there’s no need to dwell on it. Buck up and move on. Needless to say, I disagree.
It’s healthy to grieve the ending of close friendships as much as any other loss, including the breakup of romantic relationships. Recognising how much had changed during our months apart, one friend said to me when we reconnected, “You’ll always have your good memories. And so will I.” We broke up again shortly after but her gentle wisdom still means a great deal to me.
From Fran I’ve learned not to expect or push for reconnection, but to remain open to the possibility. I cited a conversation with her in a blog post on healthy boundaries. We were talking about how she manages to release her hold on difficult, even toxic, relationships without forever banishing the other person to the Forbidden Zone.
Fran: I don’t give up on people.
Martin: I have learned to let go.
Fran: Giving up is different than letting go.
Martin: I was just pondering that. I’m not sure. Maybe.
Fran: Giving up implies hopelessness. Letting go implies openness. Open handedness.
Martin: Closing the door vs leaving it open?
Fran: Yes.
Martin: It’s not always healthy to leave the door open. (That’s what I’m thinking, anyway, about me and my relationships.)
Fran: It’s ok to close the door but not the heart.
Years later, I’d revisit those words. During a prolonged breakup with a friend I wrote:
I didn’t lock the door. I just stopped watching at the window for your return.
The insight has helped me more than once. Whether we’ve reconnected or not, if I ever called you my friend I still care, and I’ll be here if you want my help or support. Those are not mere words on my part. That said, I’m wary of reaching out to former friends if we’ve spent considerable time apart. There is peace in closed chapters.
Over to You
In this blog post I’ve shared some of my thoughts about friendship breakups. How do you feel when close friendships end? How do you manage friendship breakups? Do you have friendships that have lasted decades, or do you tend to make new friends as older ones end or fall away? I’d love to hear from you, either in the comments below or via our contact page.
Photo by Kateryna Hliznitsova at Unsplash.
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