If this was the Real Housewives, they’d have been at least spilt wine and broken glasses. A cathartic expression of hostility and anger. And perhaps in that, the distress would have disseminated faster.  But this is not Atlanta. So instead there was quiet resentment and silent reproach. Culminating in furious keystrokes in heated WhatsApp exchanges.

I’ve had writing anxiety for months and in part, I realize that it was because I intend to use my blog, and my Life Lately pieces to share authentic human experiences and I was not willing and able to do so. I was ashamed of the dreaded F-Word but I now know that to move forward, you must move through. Name the emotion, label the feeling and spell out the pain.

And so, before we return to our regularly scheduled programming, let’s talk about the F-Word: Friendship Breakups.

Heaven knows that we’ve normalized talking freely about romantic breakups and fallouts. About relationship disappointments. Cringe-worthy dates. I know my blog is peppered with those. What we have not normalized, though, is the frank discussion on friendship fallouts. No, for those we act like they never happen. And if they do, that those people were never friends in the first place. That’s just not true.

Exasperating this further is the fact that female friendships are strange things. We are acutely aware of how society is ready to villainize women into the roles of backstabbing witches that we sometimes overcompensate. I know I do. We are mindful around each other. Pleases and Thank yous are dolled-out dutifully. Men are not like that. Listen to a group of guys talking and half the time you’ll start worrying that a brawl is about to break out! But even when there are real issues at hand, men typically sort them out in fast order.

That’s not how it plays out in the standard female friendships. When one woman calls another ‘shady and petty’, you know it’s pretty much done. They will be no shrugging it off and letting it slide. Once said, the words linger like bad fish on a hot day.

So, imagine this happened to you, my lovely reader. And instead of addressing it right there and then, you allowed it to fester. Like kimchi in a pot buried outside your kitchen window, it turned nice and sour. Then when you couldn’t take the ostracism anymore, when the friendship blackout became too glaring, what did you do? Well, you exit left, of course.

You leave all the groups you have in common. You take steps equivalent to playground antics and unfollow the people you thought you were friendly with. Then you discover that they already unfollowed you first.  It surprises you how much those actions sting. If you were honest, you know you wanted to be the one ‘dumping’ them, not the other way round. Been the one broken up with bruises your already frail ego.

In a space of a few hours on an unremarkable Tuesday, although you’d know a rift has been growing for weeks, you find yourself with a minute circle, down from the small one you already had.

You spend weeks in a funk. The sadness creeps into your sleep and claws at you as you dream. You know that you should just let it all go. Make peace with the fact that there are people who come in your life for a season and reason. But you can’t.

And then it occurs to you one day that you were holding on to the hurt and rebuke because you try so hard to be a nice person. You are not a people-pleaser by any measure but you do go out of your way to be a good person. If someone asks for a recommendation, you double-down and do research to give them more options. An online acquaintance hits you up for a recipe, you take note to share with personal tips. A friend needs advise, you carve out time to make them a priority and to help. So to have had shady and petty used to describe you had been like a slap across the face.

It also finally dawns on you that the words had probably been quickly forgotten by the sayer but had taken a permanent residence in your mind. They had moved on but you were still licking wounds that had no business still being there. Your self-doubt and negative self-talk were what was keeping you in the abusive cycle. To move past, you had to be kind, forgiving and encouraging of yourself.

Isn’t that true for everyone?

The next fallout (because they were several and this appeared to be the season for breakups) was after the accusation that you lacked exuberance. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, this one set your blood on fire! The charge laid against you was a lack of enthusiasm and respect evidenced by a sudden quieter and withdrawn demeanour.

It’s true. People who know you, know that you are passionate and energetic and winsome. You talk spiritedly about things that excite you. But, and it’s a big But folks, just because that is your demeanour most of the time it did not give anyone the right to demand that of you all the darn time!

Let me paraphrase what was said: ‘You used to be so upbeat, now you are quiet and forlorn when we talk. Do not bring us your bad attitude. Be mature and handle your blues privately and come to us only when you are joyful!’

If ever there was a time you could envision your anger as a living, breathing thing, it was when you read that dreadful message.

Thankfully this was one assault that you did not need to sit and ponder over. You already knew that a healthy person cannot make emotional appointments. You knew that whatever a person was feeling was valid and should never be the subject of public discussion on validity. And you knew that you certainly did not need anyone’s permission to act how you did. Whether or not your demeanour went against what someone’s type-cast of you.

Dear reader, if you are feeling down and out, you don’t have to fake happiness. Be quiet. Be withdrawn. Be whatever it is that you need to be in order to work through whatever you’re going through. People who you need in your life know better than to hold a rut against you. You are not a technicolour unicorn to them! They can handle the rough edges of you because you’ve done the same for them. I’m glad that we can agree that this loss was not a monumental one.

You’ve heard that terrible things come in threes, right?  There’s one more breakup story to share.

It’s Monday midmorning – I like naming days and times, have you noticed? Anyway, it’s a Monday midmorning supermarket dash to get drinking water refills.  You brush past each as you make your way to the entrance. Like any Ex, you question if you look nice.  You certainly hope that you look decent enough for them not to think you’ve fallen to shambles since they ghosted you. Ghosted you because you once forgot to say thank you to them in a group. You wish that was a joke, a lie, but it’s not. This was the most surreal of breakups. There were no words, no disagreements. Just a falling away.

As you come to eye-level, you’re worried that your heart will squeeze tight and topple right out your chest, that your palms will clench to fists and that your feet will betray you. They do not. As you shop, you cast an eye down a few aisles wondering if they came in to shop as well. You don’t see them and you have a rueful smile under your mask. You got over that breakup pretty much as you have all the others.

When you get home, you debate whether you should tell your partner about the strange encounter. You haven’t told your other friends about what’s been happening. But he’s seen you through all the stages of grief since the three ‘friendships’ imploded: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and now acceptance.

You finally tell him in the evening and you can see the concern in his eyes. It makes you smile. At the initial falling out, when shrapnel was flying every which way, he’d been tough with you. Questioned you on whether you were being honest with yourself, if you were looking for the easy way out by cutting people off. ­­­But you had remained steadfast in your decisions. Adamant that it was not cowardly to accept that some relationships end.

You had finally learnt how to establish boundaries, not walls. You’d learnt that boundaries honour not just yourself but others too. Although you’d added a mental note that next time you’d make sure that the boundaries go up at the beginning, not as the house is burning down.

Dear reader, this is my story but it could be yours too. What I’ve learnt in the past few months is that toxic situations and toxic people give us an opportunity to better understand ourselves, and our relationships. What I also now strive to remember is that a person’s behaviours and actions will likely be a reflection of their inner world and workings. It’s usually not personal even if it looks like it is.

Perhaps their behaviour towards you is their survival mechanism. They seek to control how you behave and act in the friendship or relationship because they might feel out of control in other aspects of their own lives. You don’t have to tolerate it. You don’t have to beat yourself up over it.  But you must see it for what it is.

And sometimes, sweet human, you are the toxic person. Realize your behaviour may be a survival mechanism, forgive yourself and move forward.

Friendship breakups are tougher than romantic breakups in my view. Friends have a wider reach; you are more vulnerable and open with them. Yet just like romantic ties, friendships come with their red flags. Please don’t ignore them or reason them into being any other colour than red just so that you have a bigger circle. Better a small world but a happy one, wouldn’t you agree?

Thanks for reading! It took a month for this post to move from draft to publish. It was part fear, part shame, part sadness. But all that’s gone away now. This was the final step.

I’d really love to hear your take on the F-Word, and your experiences if you’re not averse to sharing. You can use the comment section below or chat me on any of my socials. Make me feel less ‘naked’ and exposed. Please!