THERE were many reasons I wanted ‘out’ of the relationship. The sniping. The stinginess. The infernal insecurity if I didn’t reply immediately to a text. But the final straw? Oh, that was the evening she turned up at a party and tried to flirt with my then-boyfriend, all giggling, arm-stroking and attempting to shut me out of the conversation.
Because yes, I’m not talking about a miserable romantic relationship. This was a failing friendship, and all I really wanted to do was sit her down and end it – probably with the line: ‘It’s not me, it’s you.’
For some reason, though, this isn’t ‘allowed’.
It should be. If you have a nightmarish boyfriend or girlfriend – the kind who chips away at your self-confidence, embarrasses you at parties or doesn’t treat you with respect – your friends and family will usually advise you to hit the ejector button and dump that idiot.
‘He/She doesn’t deserve you,’ they’ll say. And they’d be right. When you finally hand that toxic partner the relationship P45, those same people inwardly cheer. Then they’ll probably take you out and treat you to cocktails, while revealing the long list of reasons they were never a fan.
Read More: The Many Complications Of Setting Up Your Friends
Yet when it comes to toxic mates, you often get painted as the villain – a superbitch – if you try to dump them. Many women seem to view this as an unsisterly betrayal, as though one half of a friendship is never able to call time without the other’s permission.
Often, though, it is they who have betrayed the basic principle of friendship: that a mate is someone who makes you feel good about yourself. In the language of Bridget Jones, these people are ‘jellyfish’ – it’s just the tentacles that they sting you with mostly come from their mouths.
A dear, wonderful friend of mine (let’s call her Claire) seems unable to shed herself of a particular jellyfish. This false friend makes regular references to Claire’s weight, even suggesting a diet pill she should try. Once, she asked if Claire ever worried her boyfriend might leave her for someone skinnier.
‘Not until you suggested it,’ should have been the reply. Instead, she bit her tongue. Claire – a kinder soul than me – puts up with her jellyfish because she sees this behaviour as a manifestation of insecurity. The problem is that she infects Claire with her fears.
So many women seem to have one friend that they don’t entirely like, that they only really hang out with under duress. Usually, these meetings leave them feeling emotionally exhausted. This can’t be good for you. As the novellist William Gibson put it: ‘Before you diagnose yourself with depression or low self-esteem, first make sure that you are not, in fact, just surrounded by assholes.’
These assholes drain you of energy, energy you could be putting into good, healthy friendships that make you happier.
Sometimes, of course, the friendship is on its last legs not because you actively dislike someone. Your lives have simply gone in different directions; perhaps you’re still dancing on tables, while they’re now busy nappy-changing and buggy-buying.
Some friendships survive these lifestyle gaps but many can’t. Again, we shouldn’t feel any obligation to keep up a friendship for the sake of a shared history; there has to be something more holding you together than the crushes you both used to have on your geography teacher.
So here’s my proposal. I’m not expecting it to be popular. We should try to normalise the break-up chat with friends in which you explain – gently – why this friendship is over. Because like ripping off a plaster, it’s so much better to break-up with someone properly, rather than the slow peel of never phoning them back, replying with longer and longer intervals to their text messages and refusing to see them except in ever bigger groups.
At least this way, they know where they stand. They can mourn the dead friendship and move on.
This might also be the kindest thing for them. Because when you don’t really value a mate, you usually become a terrible friend to them too. Your resentment causes you to carp about them behind their backs and ignore their needs. Isn’t it better they find someone who genuinely likes them to spend time with?
Read More: How To Make Friends When You’ve Moved To A New City
And if you don’t formally break up, resentments can simmer away for years. When they suddenly boil over, the recriminations can be brutal on both sides, and the results devastating. An acquaintance ended up being axed from a wedding where she was a bridesmaid – yet she’d wanted to dump the bride as a friend for years.
Perhaps the reason for our different attitudes to break-ups in romantic relationships and friendships is that because most people are still monogamous, being with the wrong person prevents you from finding someone better suited to you. Clearly, there’s no real limit on friendships.
And when you end a romantic relationship, there’s a place to shift that to, if you so desire. I’ve remained friends with most of my exes. We text. We talk. I don’t have to ignore them at parties. But after friendship, where is there to go? That’s why the formal break-up would help. You could say, ‘Let’s still be acquaintances, the kind who chat at a party, but never call.’ Then it’s up to them if that’s what they want to accept.
As for my friend (loosely-defined), I took the immature approach. I just stopped inviting her to things. Tried to phase her out. Being the clingy kind, she went full-on Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction, texting me and dragging in mutual friends to ask why I was ignoring her.
The answer sounded too brutal and playground to say – I just don’t want to be your friend any more – so I left her in limbo instead. I regret that.
If I ever find myself in that situation again, I’ll be cruel momentarily to be kind long-term. Because being friend-dumped is still better than being friend-frozen out.
**Like This? Then You’ll Also Be Interested In: **
Follow Rosamund On Twitter: @rosamundurwin
Picture: Eylul Aslan
This article originally appeared on The Debrief.