Losing your best friend
Dusting off our bruised feelings as we walk through life's byways
Losing your BFF
Mary Thurman Yuhas
I am prepared—at least sort of—for romantic breaks ups with men. But the pain that was unleashed and continued to unfold for several few months after my BFF and I ended our friendship two years ago was unexpected.
It’s not like our three-year-kinship dissolved all at once. Rather it was more like a ceiling fan gradually slowing down until it rolled to a stop.
I chose to ignore the first signs not liking what I sensed and instead preferred to believe everything would return to the way it once was. After all, despite our equally busy lives with family, work and other friends, we still managed to text each other daily and usually get together and catch-up at least once a week. There is nothing like sitting and talking to your best friend—maybe with a glass of wine in your hand—knowing you can be completely honest and open and it will be met with support.
Not having lived in a bubble, this has happened to me before—twice to be exact--but I thought as I grew older, my peers and I were beyond this kind of behavior. Instead I wound up questioning myself more than ever. Was it me? Am I a bad friend? If I am--how so? Or is she one of those who is your besty until someone she thinks is better comes along?
Another thing I learned is how similar a breakup with a best friend feels compared to breaking up with a man you love. The hurt does not just go away.
Mark Twain said in one of his many witticisms said if we have five really good friends in our lives, we should consider ourselves lucky. I think he was right. Pop psychology says friends come into our lives and when they have completed their purpose, they leave. I grew up thinking that good friends stayed friends forever—a belief I’ve been unable to shake.
I always wanted a sister and envied those who were fortunate enough to have one. A high school friend once told me she and her sister sat in their twin beds at night before falling asleep sharing their day and talking about their boyfriends, school and everything that was important to them at the time. That sounded wonderful to me. Maybe what I really want is a sister.
My husband died young. I was devastated and struggled to pick up the pieces. I joined a grief group and it was there that a woman who was ten years younger than me quickly became my BFF--at her behest. We were quite different but nonetheless, I felt like she was the sister I’d always wanted when suddenly and without explanation, she shut me out of her life. I was shocked and that devastation piled on top of the devastation I already felt was as we blithely say, “difficult.” Later she and I got together a few more times but whatever that best friend chemistry is that makes some female friendships so special, it was gone. Childish as this sounds, the last time I got together, I couldn’t wait to get away from her and that gave some pleasure.
This BFF and I discontinued our friendships via texts. A lack of communication between the two of us for weeks made it clear to me that in her mind we were acquaintances and no longer the best friends. She went on a ten day trip with another friend and asked me to water her flowers and check on her house while she was gone. I did. As good friends do, we always helped each other out in different ways and she was always very generous with her time and help. And I genuinely liked her and enjoyed her company.
After she returned, she asked me if she could treat me to dinner on Thursday or brunch on Sunday. She advised me she was too busy on Fridays and Saturdays.
It would have been painful and ridiculous for to me to pretend like nothing had changed and when she openly stated she had relegated me to a Thursday/Sunday friend, it opened the door for me to tell her how I felt. I ended it with, “have a good life” and meant it.
She texted back that she was shocked but that she would respect my feelings. I didn’t believe her. It would have been better had she told me the truth rather than pretend because the betrayal was real.
The ache that at first tweaked me multiple times a day gradually lessened until I felt nothing although I still recall my bruised feelings. Throwing caution to the wind and trusting that all will go well with another BFF is not easy. On the other hand, the alternative is not having a close friend. Despite being a little more guarded than I was, I hope I have learned that friends step in and out of our lives and that does not diminish the friendship we once had or either one of us as a person. It’s just life.
***
Losing your BFF
Mary Thurman Yuhas
I am prepared—at least sort of—for romantic breaks ups with men. But the pain that was unleashed and continued to unfold for several few months after my BFF and I ended our friendship two years ago was unexpected.
It’s not like our three-year-kinship dissolved all at once. Rather it was more like a ceiling fan gradually slowing down until it rolled to a stop.
I chose to ignore the first signs not liking what I sensed and instead preferred to believe everything would return to the way it once was. After all, despite our equally busy lives with family, work and other friends, we still managed to text each other daily and usually get together and catch-up at least once a week. There is nothing like sitting and talking to your best friend—maybe with a glass of wine in your hand—knowing you can be completely honest and open and it will be met with support.
Not having lived in a bubble, this has happened to me before—twice to be exact--but I thought as I grew older, my peers and I were beyond this kind of behavior. Instead I wound up questioning myself more than ever. Was it me? Am I a bad friend? If I am--how so? Or is she one of those who is your besty until someone she thinks is better comes along?
Another thing I learned is how similar a breakup with a best friend feels compared to breaking up with a man you love. The hurt does not just go away.
Mark Twain said in one of his many witticisms said if we have five really good friends in our lives, we should consider ourselves lucky. I think he was right. Pop psychology says friends come into our lives and when they have completed their purpose, they leave. I grew up thinking that good friends stayed friends forever—a belief I’ve been unable to shake.
I always wanted a sister and envied those who were fortunate enough to have one. A high school friend once told me she and her sister sat in their twin beds at night before falling asleep sharing their day and talking about their boyfriends, school and everything that was important to them at the time. That sounded wonderful to me. Maybe what I really want is a sister.
My husband died young. I was devastated and struggled to pick up the pieces. I joined a grief group and it was there that a woman who was ten years younger than me quickly became my BFF--at her behest. We were quite different but nonetheless, I felt like she was the sister I’d always wanted when suddenly and without explanation, she shut me out of her life. I was shocked and that devastation piled on top of the devastation I already felt was as we blithely say, “difficult.” Later she and I got together a few more times but whatever that best friend chemistry is that makes some female friendships so special, it was gone. Childish as this sounds, the last time I got together, I couldn’t wait to get away from her and that gave some pleasure.
This BFF and I discontinued our friendships via texts. A lack of communication between the two of us for weeks made it clear to me that in her mind we were acquaintances and no longer the best friends. She went on a ten day trip with another friend and asked me to water her flowers and check on her house while she was gone. I did. As good friends do, we always helped each other out in different ways and she was always very generous with her time and help. And I genuinely liked her and enjoyed her company.
After she returned, she asked me if she could treat me to dinner on Thursday or brunch on Sunday. She advised me she was too busy on Fridays and Saturdays.
It would have been painful and ridiculous for to me to pretend like nothing had changed and when she openly stated she had relegated me to a Thursday/Sunday friend, it opened the door for me to tell her how I felt. I ended it with, “have a good life” and meant it.
She texted back that she was shocked but that she would respect my feelings. I didn’t believe her. It would have been better had she told me the truth rather than pretend because the betrayal was real.
The ache that at first tweaked me multiple times a day gradually lessened until I felt nothing although I still recall my bruised feelings. Throwing caution to the wind and trusting that all will go well with another BFF is not easy. On the other hand, the alternative is not having a close friend. Despite being a little more guarded than I was, I hope I have learned that friends step in and out of our lives and that does not diminish the friendship we once had or either one of us as a person. It’s just life.
***