The Friendship Break Up: What I Learned About Myself, Life and What I Hope For

If I’m being honest, I knew what was happening, which is why I knew I was clinging onto something that had already left me.

It came out of the seeming blue at the time, but it really didn’t. I had signs I had chosen to ignore and focus on keeping the friendship something that didn’t fade away. However, what I had neglected through the times of working through difficulties is that it takes two to be in a relationship.

The friendship break up happened.

It was so swift it didn’t feel real.

20 years was pretty much… gone. It started with a conversation and after being told they didn’t enjoy being friends with me, ended with the most break-up things I’ve ever said, “I hope everyone gets to experience someone like you and that your light has shined bright for everyone. I love you.” There were some socially polite messages in passing after for a few days.

I was on Instagram when I saw a story posted about knowing when it was time to leave. And in that moment, I said yes, you need to know when to leave and that’s on me to accept, but I do not have to allow access to the most intimate parts of my life. I removed them from my personal Instagram account.

Weeks passed by. I moved to downtown Chicago and I knew they knew that was happening. I had hopes of a check-in to see how things were going. Instead, it was after the move.

“Did you remove me from Instagram.”
“I disabled everything but my public Instagram.”

That was it. I noticed my follower count go down and I unfollowed someone who had been a main character for 20 years of my life. The friendship break up was real.

Having been a witness to many break ups, I thought about how telling it was the way I was something to be dealt with, moved to the side and simply not a resource wanting to be invested in. It was just over.

I had no choice but to move on.

So I did.

I’ve learned not to fight these things. Just move on. Accept the reality and learn from it.

Misalignment had been the sort of theme for the last few years. I noticed the change in support when I was breaking up, but had more immediate things to tend to. Let me be clear, relationships are work and I treat my friendships with the utmost respect and they deserve that work. It was some smaller things but then it started to trickle into how we approached life and what we wanted out of it.

I remember us having a conversation once about if we would be friends if we met as who we are now vs when we were young. It was a resounding no, which still makes sense to me. Our commonalities were the way we once were, not who we were.

The reality I sit with is that I can be toxic to someone just as easily as they can be to me, without intent. You can be really good people who grow apart as they grow into who they are. 20 years, the foundational years, brings such transformation that who we started as were mere specs of who we had become.

We had a trip planned together, the first one we were going to be taking together as adults that was about to take place right before this call.

I debated cancelling the trip, sitting at home and thinking about what should have been. Instead I decided to take it and see what met me along the way.

I’ve learned I’m really comfortable being alone. Prefer it almost. I hadn’t taken a personal trip like that alone. I wasn’t nervous, but I wanted this trip to have a purpose. During this season of life (okay this spring, just felt like adding in some dramatic prose) I was exhausted, so I decided to make the purpose be rest.

I was upgraded on all my flights, my favorite way to start a trip.

I landed and the adventure began and quite frankly, I could feel it starting to be out of my hands. Suddenly there I was on the train, just up for whatever life put in front of me. I took some wrong stops, thought about how I would normally handle that, shake off the metaphorical dirt and turn around and find a true adventure.

The entire trip was one thing after another of life meeting me in ways I didn’t know I needed.

I walked around Seattle for days by myself.

It was then I realized, I fill my own cup. Being alone didn’t scare me.

I sat on the Seattle Wheel and looked out at the sunset and smiled.

For years I’ve been looking to memorialize the work I’ve been doing. I thought it would be a ring but it never felt right. It still doesn’t feel right to wear a ring after the engagement. I was exploring delicate jewelry shops on the trip and hadn’t found anything that spoke to me.

Then I saw it.

I made an appointment for the next morning.

I walked into Silver + Salt and told her what I was looking for. Nothing hit me. Then I saw the permanent bracelets. I talked to her about adding a small diamond (I am who I am after all) and we created it. She soldered it together and I walked out, staring at my wrist.

It’s almost unfair how much pressure that moment of being able to find the physical item that manifested all of this. A simple gold chain with a small diamond symbolizing over two years of blood, sweat, tears, perseverance to get to that exact moment.

I walked myself to a celebratory lunch at Matt’s in the Market and looked out while enjoy fresh mussels, rosé and my new symbol that only few knew what it meant.

I don’t really know (I think I do, but I’m keeping the door open) if it’s a friendship break up. A pause? A time out? No label really feels appropriate still. I suppose a sort of open-ended exit is what I’m making peace with right now.

It feels like a divorce when you’ve been in any relationship for that long. Beneficiaries changed, last wishes re-communicated.

Life really does move on.

In so many ways I hate that it does, but there’s few things you can do for a broken anything, except let time pass.

There are moments where I think and speculate.

There’s going to be a whole rest of our lives that people in our lives have no idea about each other. Or if they do, it’s not communicated the role they once had.

Ouch. At first. Then I sat with it. This is the nature of life, comings and goings. Seasons.

The reality though is that the moment I hung up on the phone I started processing. Deeply. Not just what does this mean for now, but what does this mean when I find out they are married, have kids or I run into them in my hometown?

I thought about it all. I really did. What’s it going to be like to see a photo someday of them with people you’ve never known? And maybe worse for my ego, they’ve never known you and who you once were?

It’s messy, but so is life so what else should I expect?

It feels heavy and endless, like you’re going to drown, but between the waves of grief there is life and I will be right there with you through it all.

I’ve given myself room to recognize this has… seemingly ended, and I don’t have to search for all the answers. Closure happens in its own way, even if it’s not true closure, that’s sort of its own style of it.

Those first few inside jokes hit a little different when someone else doesn’t appreciate them.

The first time you said, “I had a friend” instead of “I have a friend.”

When you have to tell your family about the friendship break up.

But the firsts slowly start to fade away.

I jumped right into those firsts, trying to wade through them as quickly as I could to get them out of the way.

Slowly memories turn into appreciation for what you once had. Maybe even a door kept open to what could be.

It was the four month anniversary when it hit, again. Really it was a chance to see how I’d grown and what else had shown up for me. A lot had changed. I grew up, moved on but I was also thankful for what I once had. Not everyone gets a chance to have that long of a relationship, especially in their formative years.

I still have them in my phone. They’re still Shawtie (an inside joke from middle school that doesn’t even work but it’s been that way for 10+ years) and I have no plans on changing that name to their real one.

I’m thankful for what was, what is and what will be.

For both of us.