FAKING IT WITH FRIENDS
When Friendship Becomes a Performance & How to Let Go.
The Unreliable Narrator Entry #2
Main character energy? Always. Listen to the essay on the go on Spotify Or Apple — but don’t forget, there’s exclusive media sprinkled throughout the written piece too. Worth a scroll when you have a minute.
We have all been there, knee-deep in an experience that feels anything but sensual. Despite having had the highest of hopes for this sacred and animalistic exchange, we are left with no choice but to admit defeat and recenter our focus on tapping into our own greatest showman. Faking the big O is a tale as old as time, and despite unanimously agreeing that we should stop doing it, we all find ourselves pulling out our own Oscar worthy performance when we're ready for it to end but don't have the heart to tell our partners that what they're bringing to the table simply isn't enough.
Blankly staring at the ceiling as my partner rejoices in the dopamine rush of post-coital euphoria, I can't help but wonder, as I release my wasted bated breath, who am I doing this for–them or me? To the naked eye, what could be gained by faking it? Upon closer examination of this, I realized that I would rather forgo my own pleasure in exchange for the relief of not having to confront a partner with an inconvenient and uncomfortable truth.
On multiple occasions over the past couple of years, I have found myself seated at a dinner table with a prospective love interest, enamored not by them, but by their friends. Where did they find these people, and why did I feel more connected to them in 20 minutes than my own friends of nearly 20 years? I was having an entirely new type of big O moment right there in front of a room full of strangers—the realization that, “Ohhhhh I see it now, most of my friends suck, and I think I've just been faking it for years.” Before I am inundated with a firing brigade of text messages inquiring into the identity of said “shitty” friends, I want to make it clear that of course I have my handful of ride-or-dies that I love with my whole body and soul. I would happily bury the body of any one of their husbands or hand over a kidney if they needed it. But as I sat in these rooms, overcome with laughter and the great energy of newfound friends, I knew that this inconvenient truth was in fact very true—most of my friendships were no longer doing it for me, and it was time to stop faking it with my friends.
What do you do when you no longer have anything in common with someone you once loved? What if you realize that despite their best efforts, what they are giving is no longer enough? Why do I feel like an asshole for realizing that someone is a shitty friend? And how do you stop resenting them for not being able to meet your expectations of a “good” friend? There are so many questions that swirled around in my head when I realized that some of my friendships may have passed their best-by date. Regardless of why I feel this way or how we got here, the idea of facing a friendship breakup head-on feels overwhelmingly impossible.
Unlike romantic relationships, we don’t walk into a friendship with the foreseeable understanding that there may be an end to it. It’s what makes friendship so magical! The projected daydreams of sitting on a porch in rocking chairs as old ladies drinking lemonade together doesn’t feel like an if—but a when. With each new romantic fling, we understand the daunting reality that this will either be forever or one day become someone you never speak to again. Maybe that's why a friendship coming to a close can often feel far more dramatic and painful than a romantic relationship. Our subconscious fails to provide the padding our heart needs, because it is a collision we could never have seen coming.
I recently admitted to a close confidant that the space I once held in my heart for a mutual friend was starting to close; the effort to keep the flame of our friendship alive felt forced. I had reached a point where faking it was no longer a slow kind of emotional ghosting but a desire to completely eradicate them from my life. The emotional distress of our connection had started as a quiet ache. When we were together, I was physically there but emotionally far from present. I needed to decide if it was time to silently let go of a girl I once considered a sister or if our history warranted uncomfortable and transparent honesty.
Before making any crazy decisions, I needed to explore the unspoken complexities of friendships evolving, changing, and ending as an attempt to gain clarity and insight into why we so often find ourselves faking it with friends.
Image from 13 Going On 30
THE MYTHICAL UNICORN
Realistic Expectations vs. Impossible Standards in Friendships
Before our brain chemistry shifts, there is a role that we covet to fill far more than finding a boyfriend, and it’s of the utmost importance that this role is simultaneously bestowed upon us… BFF. In my experience, being a BFF as a preteen was a badge of honor. Less of a blanketed statement that applies to many, as I use it today, but a singular position that you assigned to the friend who was in the best favor with you at that given moment. I still remember at 10 years old when my friend Cassidy told me that I was now her BFF. A young girl with curly long hair named Francesca had been demoted, and I now held the prized position.
I've felt a type of aligned kismet with certain friends over the years that rivals that of my greatest romantic loves. During my freshman year of high school, my best friend Emily and I would write handwritten letters to each other during class almost every day; I still have an entire memory box filled with them. Novels and novels about nothing. I almost failed my AP Biology class because I was too busy decorating my letters with glitter gel pens and pink highlighters to take notes. We understood each other in the most magical of ways, the type of connection that can’t be reproduced no matter how hard you try. As we age and our childhood begins to slip through the sands of time, something seems to shift in our friendships. Though still incredibly important, they become less intoxicating. They’re no longer our whole world, but now just a small piece of a large puzzle that we often forget to take out of the box if we are not present and mindful.
Over the years, I’ve become more and more aware of the fact that we tend to ironically hold our female friends to a much higher standard than our own romantic partners. I've had friends tell me the most heinous and, in my eyes, unforgivable things about their spouses and boyfriends, only to watch them completely turn a blind eye to the behavior. God knows I’m guilty of it. For years I sat miserable in an abusive relationship, defending my partner’s choices and rationalizing their actions at every turn. Meanwhile, if I felt slighted or let down at all by a friend, I would cut them from my life with no desire to truly offer a second chance.
My years of slumber parties, outside of the occasional girls' trip, are largely over. My desire to pass out the position of BFF has faded, and I’ve settled into the understanding that there is no one person who can be my everything, whether that be platonically or romantically. Before you land on the conclusion that someone is a bad friend, it might be worth asking yourself: are the expectations that I’m placing on this person realistic or fair? Of course, there will be people that enter our lives to act as harsh lessons that break our spirit or trust, but for the most part, I like to believe that people are doing the best they can at any given moment. And if you are willing to give your fuckboy situationship 300 chances, maybe we should be more willing to ride out the hard times with the friends we know add value to our life. There will always be growing pains in the evolution of friendship, and there is no mythical unicorn of a friend who can do, be, and say everything you need at all times.
Image from Sex & The City
THE GHOST IN THE GROUP CHAT
When to Speak Your Piece and When to Walk Away in Silence.
To ghost or not to ghost, that is the question. Closure is something we find within ourselves and never within someone or something else. When it comes to ghosting, I think walking away from a friendship that has gone sour or never uplifted you to begin with is more than healthy. In fact, I would argue it’s the healthiest thing you can do. Boundaries are something that we create and silently enforce; they are not something that we preach or punish people with. I’ve learned to let go of the need to speak my piece unless my desire is to mend and maintain the friendship.
If I have no interest in fixing things, not only is it not my job to teach someone what they have done wrong, but it is self-serving to think that I would even have the ability to show someone all the things they have done “wrong” or the ways in which they have hurt me. If someone is consistently hurting you or letting you down, chances are they are not in a place to receive or recognize that information. No matter how evolved we are, it usually takes years to reflect on a situation and gain the clarity that we may have been in the wrong or the villain in another person's story. If you are genuinely ready to walk away from a friendship that no longer makes sense in your life, then do so without the need to self-indulge in explaining yourself or starting a fight. If you feel an internal aching itch to do so, there is probably still a subconscious part of you that desires to have this person in your life. A piece of you hopes that once they know all the ways in which they have hurt you, they will come running to explain just how much they truly care, promise to change their ways, and validate all of your feelings.
One of the best pieces of advice I have ever received applies beautifully within friendships: don't present a problem without providing a solution. If you want to mend a broken friendship or make them aware of an issue you have been silently seething about, don’t present an emotion-fueled problem until you can pair it with a thoughtful and honest solution. This is particularly hard for me, as I get really frustrated about having to explain things that to me feel as if they should be obvious. People are not mind readers, and if you deem someone important enough to try and keep in your life, you will have to ask yourself “what needs to change for this to work” and be brave and honest enough to ask for it. The right people will not be threatened when we express our feelings, if we come to them with a genuine desire to realign and grow our friendships.
Image from Curb Your Enthusiasm
THE HIERARCHY OF HEART SPACE
Why Not Everyone Can Afford an All-Access Pass to Your Life.
I think of friendships like a spiral. At the center of the spiral are my ride-or-dies. These are the people who I know would go to war for me. I can tell them anything without being judged. They will always answer my midnight texts or teary phone calls. They celebrate my highs and hold my hand through my lows. We can happily sit in a silent room together without it getting weird despite the fact the flow of conversation is never-ending. There are no looming conditions or unrealistic expectations, we just click.
The center of a spiral is tight and compact and becomes overcrowded very quickly. The saying quality over quantity is very true. Not because there isn’t a large quantity of amazing people out there, but because the bandwidth of how much we have to give can only be spread so far. When too many people are let into your innermost circle, you are left with a lack of energy and time to give to the people that matter the most to you. These are the people who, through their actions, time, loyalty, and love, have shown you that they want an all-access pass to your life.
As the spiral extends outward and widens further and further from the center at which I stand, the capacity to which I integrate someone into my life becomes less and less. It’s important to realize that these people are not “bad friends”; they are simply a different type of friend. I’ve learned where we connect and where we don’t. What I can expect from them and also what I am able to give them in return. Learning who someone is and what they are able give helps you manage expectations and decide where you want to keep them within the spiral.
What ring people land in can change and evolve over time. There are people who used to stand on the outskirts of my spiral as distant acquaintances; now, years later, they are some of my most cherished and close friends. On the flip side, I recently came to the conclusion that although I enjoyed going out and socializing in group settings with someone I once considered to be an inner-circle friend, I now feel drained and taken advantage of whenever we are alone together.
No longer clicking with someone doesn’t always mean you need to remove them entirely from your life. Find what you love about people and enjoy it. Let go of the fact that they may never be able to go deeper with you. It’s okay to have party friends or workout friends or friends that you only gossip with. A trivial or situational friendship doesn’t have to be a bad thing, that’s why they are in the outer rings of your spiral. You don’t expect or give in the same way you would with someone who stands in the center of the spiral with you. When we don’t allow there to be a hierarchy to our heart space, we mistakenly give too much or expect too much from the wrong people. Its easy to feel resentful when we don’t receive to the capacity at which we give, but I would never expect a friend in the party layer of my spiral to show up when times are tough, that’s not their role in the story of my life. You get to decide how much of yourself you give to other people. You can’t be everything to everyone, but that also means everyone can’t be everything to you.
Image by Davis Bates
LETTING GO WITH GRACE
How to Release Friendships Without Resentment or Drama.
I have a friend who sucks the air out of every room she walks into. She is always negative, something is always wrong, and worst of all, she asks for the sun, moon, and the stars from me but always lets me down when it’s time to return the favor. I felt guilty when I came to this realization because we used to get along so well. I tried to ignore the feelings and bottle up my disappointment every time she let me down. Eventually, however, the resentment had compounded to a level I could no longer ignore. To put it simply, I wanted to lose my shit on her and explain to her all the ways she had let me down, illuminate the fact that she was laughably selfish and all around a shitty friend to me. Once the overwhelming anger of disappointment had settled into a mild lack of caring, I realized that doing so would be cruel and selfish because I had no desire to mend our relationship. I was ready to let go and move on.
As I shared previously, closure is something we can only find within, and as you get older you start to realize that peace is not always created by sharing how you feel, especially if it's simply done to self-soothe. If you can avoid having an issue with someone, it’s best to leave it that way. You don’t know what the future holds, so where possible, go gentle into the dark night without setting off a hand grenade as you leave.
Each time I have to cut ties with someone who brings up a lot of emotions for me, I have written them a three-page letter. Page one is for releasing all of my negative emotions, all the ways they wronged me, hurt me, or let me down. Page two is for forgiveness. Sometimes it’s very hard to find forgiveness, especially when someone has deeply hurt us. But forgiveness is the bittersweet medicine of pain. The only person you hurt by holding a grudge is you. Forgiveness doesn’t mean you have to love this person again, or even like them; it simply means you’ve released the power they hold over you and accepted that you no longer want to carry ill intent for them in your heart. Page three is for reflecting on the good times and all the things you loved about this person. People are complex, and you will rarely come across anyone who is all bad. I find that to let go with grace it helps to reflect on the good times and allow that to be what sticks with you. Of course, this is a letter that will never be sent; it’s an exercise done just for you. Burn it, shred it, stick it in a box, do whatever feels right, but once it’s done, know that it’s okay to move forward without having to explain yourself.
There are millions of people in this world, and for one reason or another, you were meant to meet and have an experience together. Think of all the people alive right now that you will never know or even meet. It’s a gift to have a moment of connection with anyone, no matter how fleeting or painful the lessons that come with it might be. However, it's also a gift to know when to walk away and put the past to bed so you can make space for new experiences and people who align with who you are and where you are headed. Reframe any lingering sadness into joy for what was and the peaceful acceptance that the uncomfortableness you feel means you are evolving, changing, and growing into who you are meant to be, and that is an amazing thing.
Image from Sex & The City
When you are young, finding your other half in a friend is a religious experience, and losing that person is earth-shattering. I feel lucky to have had that experience with many girlfriends over the years, a relationship so unique and special its gravity can’t be explained or understood by anyone but the two of you. Something shifts as you get older though, your priorities change; suddenly you don’t have the time that you used to. Jobs become more demanding, boyfriends enter the picture, people begin to pop the question more and more, and suddenly the only time you're all in one place is for a wedding. Then kids enter the scene, and you begin to fear the day that you drift so far apart you end up having to introduce yourself as “an old friend of your mom’s” to their tiny carbon copy, when you bump into each other at a farmers market down the street from your old favorite bar.
Friendships are going to change, it's inevitable. You are going to change, and if you aren’t consistently growing and changing, then maybe it’s time to ask yourself: am I really living my best life? Growth can be uncomfortable, awkward, and yes, sometimes even painful. That's the price we pay for emotional and spiritual evolution. As you evolve and get older, not everyone will remain on the same frequency or vibration as you. This doesn’t mean that you're any better or worse than the people you lose along the way, it just means that you may now be running on two parallel lines that no longer intersect. Not every ending needs to be etched in stone or forever memorialized with an epic confrontation. It’s okay to outgrow someone and choose to simply walk away.
In fact, what I have discovered is maybe we don’t outgrow people; we outgrow the version of ourselves that we met them as.
Till next time,
A.M.E.
If you’re in your feels after reading — or just need something to soundtrack your quiet exits, here’s a playlist inspired by FAKING IT WITH FRIENDS.
This essay is so healing and I feel so seen. Never stop writing! 💕