Disclaimer: All names and specific details have been modified to prevent identification and to respect the privacy of those mentioned
Throughout my adult years, I’ve crossed paths with many people—some I once called friends, others simply acquaintances. But only three individuals have ever truly shown genuine care, value, and respect. One of them remains like a sister to me, even to this day. The other two are no longer part of my life, but I still wish them nothing but the best. They stood by me during some of my lowest moments, and for that, I will always be grateful.
As mentioned above, I’ve come across many different characters throughout my life. Most have been good, while a few have been the occasional bad egg. I’ve always tried my best to be a “good” friend—to show up when I can, to listen even when I don’t fully understand, and to do so without judgment. I haven’t always agreed with the choices my friends made, just as they haven’t always agreed with mine. But I’ve learned to appreciate constructive criticism and recognise the areas where I can grow. At the end of the day, I genuinely want to become a better version of myself in every area of my life.
When I reflect, I realise that some of the people I associated with displayed unhealthy behaviours or traits. I would describe myself as understanding and patient, recognising that we all make mistakes and sometimes make poor decisions. I also feel that I gave these individuals a fair chance and tried my best to be supportive. The friend I was to them was not the friend they were to me. It’s a sad truth, but unfortunately, it’s the reality. I’ll share some examples to illustrate this.
Disclaimer: names have been changed and stories adjusted, so individuals are not identified
Paula:
I met Paula through mutual connections. At first, she was a good friend, but things changed when I called her out on certain behaviours, disagreed with her, or didn’t go along with what she wanted. I’d describe her as somewhat controlling—perhaps used to people in her life always doing what she wants, until someone doesn’t. I had known her for years and truly cherished the friendship we once shared, but over the past four years, I noticed changes, and not for the better.
One of the first things I observed was the energy of her long-time friends. I wouldn’t say I disliked them, but I often felt out of place—and it became clear that they disliked me. We came from different social circles, having attended different schools, and I wasn’t deeply involved in the community. While we occasionally attended events and had fun, there was always an undercurrent of tension. I’m not a follower, and I have my own mind—if you didn’t agree with the group or participate in the same activities, you were often ostracised or made to feel “different.”
There were also backhanded comments, sometimes disguised as jokes, and a tendency to talk about people behind their backs while acting friendly to their faces. Relationships were maintained even when there was clear dislike toward someone. Over time, these patterns became more apparent, and it was hard to ignore how the dynamics had shifted.
Some of the changes I noticed included:
- Maintaining friendships with people who have caused harm to me
- Deflection of the poor behaviour towards me when I call it out
- Befriending individuals who are the opposite of their morals and values
- Thinking I wouldn’t notice their facial expressions when I was around ( I could see them on the corner of my eyes, giving me the dirtiest looks)
- Weird energy- superiority complex and secret aminousity
- Stating that “my other friends think you’re a toxic person”, meanwhile, she is not honest with her “friends” about anything. So they’ll believe anything
- A chameleon: changes her personality depending on the group of people she is around
- The mirroring behaviour of individuals who hold opposing morals and values
- Informed by other people about behaviours, which made me question her character, as I knew her for years and had not witnessed it
- Not understanding me (choosing not). You’ve known me for years, but all of a sudden, nothing clicks for you?
- Having to always explain myself (it is so tiring). Why do not just get it?
- Having the ability to understand everyone else, but when it comes to me, it’s rocket science?
- Siding with strangers and questioning me
- Wanting to always be right, even when proven to be wrong
- Me: The sky is blue. Her: “No, actually it’s purple”
- Her: “They apologised to me, so whatever issue you have, take it up with them”
- Lacking integrity and authenticity: their words and actions began to not align, and they masked their true self because they know people will exit if they show you “who they really are”
- I can confidently confirm they gossiped/talked behind my back with their “highly judgmental” friends (they stated they felt their friends are quite judgmental and even had to take a break from them)
- Not the type of person to defend me if people in a room were talking about me, and would join in
- Befriending and continuing friendships with people based on what they can do for her, despite their poor character (big allegations – DV & SA)
Heather
Heather is an interesting character—funny, but also a little strange. She had me and others fooled for a while until the truth started to show. At first, she seemed sweet and down-to-earth, and I remember having some of the best nights out and attending events together. But there were early hints that something was off. I recall her saying to me, “Women don’t seem to like me. I’m better off friends with men because it’s easier.” In hindsight, that should have been a red flag. I’d heard similar things before, but at the time, I didn’t think much of it. Others in my life had mixed opinions about her, but generally thought she was nice. Some examples of the concerning behaviour I noticed include:
- Bad things always used to happen when she was around
- She would call me when her “abusive” partner would do something (it was later revealed she was just as bad as him and would start drama within his friendship group)
- She lived for drama
- pathological liar
- Would make up lies about her friends (Her friends would speak to me a dispel her accusations)
- She went after men who were in relationships (would lie that she didn’t know and that the guy tricked her)
- Hid information about health (putting me in danger)
- Leaving other people to take care of me when I was vulnerable state (instead was thirsting for some guy’s attention at the house party). Luckily, nothing too serious happened
- Manipulating a guy in a relationship of $600-$800 for an abortion. (Hint: she was never pregnant. She just wanted extra cash for a night out and to get her nails done.
- Taking no accountability and lacking self-awareness
- Putting on the water works when she didn’t get the support she wanted or called out for her poor behaviour
- Chanting the “N word” with her friends at a house party (left me quite shaken up)
Friendships are meant to feel like a safe haven, a place where we can share our vulnerabilities, struggles, and joys. In times of need, friends are usually the first people we turn to for support. But what happens when there’s no one there? When friends aren’t present emotionally, it leaves a deep ache—a quiet loneliness that’s hard to shake. It’s especially painful when you’ve always shown up for others, only to find silence when you need them the most.
I’m aware that I have my faults, and there are times when I’m not able to show up in the way my friends need. I also understand that everyone has their own lives and responsibilities, which is why I often keep a lot to myself. But on the occasions when I’ve reached out for help or understanding, I’ve been met with indifference or invalidation, leaving me feeling unseen and unsupported.
I remind myself that I deserve to be surrounded by people who genuinely care, who understand and acknowledge my experiences, and who show up when it matters. That is not too much to ask. It also means accepting that some friendships are only for a season and may not meet our needs or standards—and that it’s okay to step back, reassess, and reevaluate those relationships.
In conclusion, unsupported and unreciprocated friendships have taught me resilience. They’ve also clarified the kind of friendships I value and reinforced the importance of honouring my own worth, even when others fail to. I cherish genuine connections built on integrity and authenticity, and I no longer have the time or energy for superficial, surface-level relationships. I’m too old—and too aware of myself—to be anything other than who I truly am.
Reference: https://unsplash.com/photos/person-covering-face-with-right-hand-3AE3jUCBh
