Dear Carolyn: My best friend from high school and college and I drifted apart as young adults. As I moved on and formed new friendships, I realized just how toxic this former friend was for me. She could be so mean and belittling. I remember so many times when I felt so bad about myself because of something she did or said to me.
My current friend group is supportive, kind and loving to one another. I came to realize what it’s like to have deep relationships with friends who truly care and would not purposefully be hurtful.
On reflection, I don’t dislike my former friend; we had good times, too. I realize my disappointment is more in myself, that I allowed myself to be a doormat, be bullied and accept poor treatment.
We are connected through social media. Recently, she stopped by my home unexpectedly, she saw me outside, and we visited. Now she wants to go to lunch or coffee.
I do not wish to rekindle this friendship. I am good with the social media updates. We now live in the same town again, so we may see each other in person from time to time.
Any advice on how to gently decline further contact?
— Former Friend
Former Friend: Because she was unkind to you, you have the best possible reason to give your friend a thanks-but-no-thanks answer that conveniently omits mention of the toxicity in your old relationship. You’re being gracious about taking responsibility, but she was still the one choosing to be rough on a friend.
A keep-it-superficial approach would also be easiest on you. Countless iterations of “we’ve grown apart” are at your disposal, all sanitized and ready to go.
But: If you want it, if this friend still matters to you as part of your life story, if you want a potentially more rewarding outcome than a clinical snip of the ties, then you will be honest about your reasons. Gently, sure: “I’ve had some really nice friendships in the past few years, and they helped me see how unhealthy our dynamic was.” Have examples ready that are as objective as possible under the circumstances. “Remember when I ___? Your response was ___. I felt ___.”
At a minimum, this gives her the truth to do with as she sees fit. That can include her hurling it back at you, since that’s always a risk. (You can exit the conversation or relationship at this point, or any other, without obligation.) She can also internally disagree, write you off, decide she’s a better fit with more rough-and-tumble friends. She might surprise you with a sincere apology. But what she won’t have to do is guess at your issue with her — and that bottomless speculation can be just as painful as the person’s absence when a friendship comes to an end. The truth itself might not be “gentle,” but it’s a gift.
What she does with your gift has no maximum. Your honesty equips her to look inward, decide whether she’s her problem or you are, and adjust accordingly, if she hasn’t already. There’s nothing to stop her (except herself) from becoming the kind of friend to others that you have come to value. If your ghosts taught you to be a doormat, then maybe her ghosts taught her to put people down, and maybe you both can put them to rest.
I present this neither as a duty nor as a guilt trip; if you’re done, then you’re done, amen. But if the person you’ve become is someone who wants to do more, then this is what you can do.
