Toxic Friendships: The Truth Behind a Bond That Drained Me

1. When It Felt Like Love in Disguise

I met her during my second year of college. She was vibrant, magnetic, the kind of person who could turn a quiet room into a party just by walking in. I was the quieter one, the observer, always watching from the edges. But she pulled me into her world like I belonged there. And honestly, I loved it.

It didn’t take long before we were inseparable. Texts all day, voice notes that never ended, sleepovers where we’d talk about everything from our dreams to our biggest fears. She wasn’t just my friend. She was my person. The kind of person you imagine standing beside you at every milestone in life.

She made me feel seen—at least in the beginning.

But looking back now, I can’t ignore how quickly “love” turned into control. How often she had to be the loudest voice in the room. How sometimes her compliments came with a sting.

“You look great today… finally.”“That guy likes you? Wow, he must have a thing for quiet girls.”

I laughed with her. I let it slide. That’s what you do when you love someone—right?

2. When Loyalty Started to Hurt

It wasn’t a sudden explosion—it was slow, like water eroding rock.

At some point, I started feeling smaller around her. I started hiding my wins. If I got a compliment, she rolled her eyes. If I was happy, she made a comment that made me doubt myself. And yet, I still stayed. Because there were good days too. Days she defended me, showed up for me, made me feel like I mattered. I held on to those days like proof that I wasn’t crazy.

But the bad days grew louder. She always had to be the one struggling more. If I was hurting, her pain was worse. If I had a moment, she took it over. When I made new friends, she’d act left out, guilt-tripping me into pulling away from them.

And I listened. I always listened.

She’d cancel plans, ignore messages, disappear for weeks—but if I ever missed a call or got quiet for a few days, I was suddenly selfish, cold, ungrateful. She always made sure I knew when I had “let her down.”

I used to be someone who lit up around the people I loved. But around her, I was always walking on eggshells. Careful with my words, careful with my joy.

Even when I was alone, I’d hear her voice in my head:

“You’re too sensitive.”

“Why do you always make things about you?”

“Don’t act like you’re some kind of victim.”

Eventually, I believed her. I thought I was the problem.

3. When I Finally Let Go Without a Goodbye

The final moment wasn’t a fight. It wasn’t loud.

It was my birthday.

She didn’t text. Didn’t call. Not even a quick “happy birthday.”

Nothing.

I waited all day. I refreshed my messages like maybe they were delayed. I even wondered if she was okay—if something had happened. But she posted on social media that day. Laughed in stories. Tagged other friends.

That silence said everything I had been refusing to hear for years.

So I didn’t respond. I didn’t reach out. I didn’t explain myself.

I just… stopped.

I stopped shrinking. Stopped defending. Stopped holding onto a bond that only worked when I wasn’t fully myself.

And yes, I missed her. Some days, I still do. I missed the old memories, the closeness, the version of her I fell in love with. But I’ve finally realized that just because a friendship once felt safe doesn’t mean it still is.

Toxic friendships don’t always come with screaming or betrayal. Sometimes, they come with laughter and old photos and memories that blur the pain. But no matter how much love was once there—if it constantly hurts, it’s okay to walk away.

Real friendship doesn’t make you question your worth.

It reminds you of it.

And I’m finally learning to be someone who doesn’t apologize for choosing peace.