It took me decades to realise that some friendships are meant for chapters, not the whole book. I held on out of sentimentality or a sense of duty, even as life carried us in different directions. I once believed that shared history guaranteed loyalty. But aging teaches me that bonds can unravel, and not everyone makes it into my future.
But growth demands honesty. Not every relationship is built to last. There’s nothing more awkward than a flat conversation or one laced with subtle competition, where everything becomes a comparison. I’d take watching cement dry over forced small talk any day. I now gravitate toward friends who bring joy, encouragement and authenticity.
I used to feel responsible for everyone’s happiness, often at the cost of my own. I was overly inclusive, inviting people along and bridging social circles just to make sure no one felt left out. Secretly, I resented it. Entertaining acquaintances I wasn’t particularly fond of out of guilt was a self-inflicted burden that only fed internal conflict.
Looking back, I regret the hours spent crafting polite ways to say no just to spare feelings. Now, it only takes a few taps to disconnect: a simple unfollow on social media, a bit of silence, a shift in energy. Sometimes the quietest exit speaks the loudest intentions.
I don’t take breakups lightly. I’m nostalgic and have abandonment issues, so I tend to hold on longer than is healthy. This habit stems from past trauma, where moving on felt like losing a part of myself. When I finally step away, it means I’ve tolerated enough and reached my limit. I know it’s not ideal, but it has been my mechanism for self-preservation.
Learning to let go is not just about cutting ties; it’s about making room for healthier, more genuine relationships that benefit all parties.