When the Friendship Fades Finding Peace in GOODBYE!
I’ve always been the kind of person—even as a kid—who hesitated to speak up, afraid of offending someone. Friends, family, coworkers, strangers… that fear of being too much or saying the wrong thing never really left me.
I wasn’t sure if I wanted to write this. It feels too personal. But that’s usually how I know I should—because I have this feeling that I’m not the only one who’s felt, or still feels, this way.
Friendships.
You’d think by now, at 45, I’d have it all figured out—including friendships. But I’m still learning, especially how to let go and notice when I am being replaced. I’m also learning to stop chasing closure that will never come.
For years, I exhausted myself overanalyzing friendships that faded into silence—the ones who took weeks (or months) to reply, the ones who only reached out when they needed something, the ones I thought were real… until they weren’t.
And I’d spiral.
Questioning myself.
Did I say something wrong? Was I too much? Not enough? Were my walls too high?
It took me longer than I’d like to admit to realize I am not the problem.
Some people expect you to shrink yourself to fit their comfort. Others build an image of you in their mind—a version you could never live up to. And some… well, some only love you when it’s easy.
This isn’t about blame. It’s about clarity. It’s about realizing that real friendship shouldn’t leave you questioning your worth.
For so long, I played the role of the accommodating friend. This is a true story. The one who never said no. The one who made excuses for others but never for herself. And honestly? That’s fake. And if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s fake people.
The irony?
I became one.
When I realized it, it was most definitely a “WTF” moment!
I smiled, pretended it didn’t bother me, buried the hurt. Because if I spoke up—if I let them see the real me and how I felt—they might leave.
And that would be my fault, right?
Ha. I told myself it was kindness, but really, it was fear. Fear that if I spoke up, I’d be the problem. That I’d be left behind—again.
This might sound like I’m crying for attention, but on the contrary, I’m just sharing my feelings, fears, and resolutions… and what I’ve learned in these 45 years.
So maybe that fear wasn’t unfounded. Because when I finally stopped overextending myself in one-sided relationships, many of them disappeared.
I used to see that as my failure.
Now, I see it as my freedom.
I haven’t stopped caring—I’ve stopped proving my care to people who don’t value it. There’s a difference.
And I wholeheartedly welcome new friendships. I will never lose hope that there’s someone out there who will stick around—someone just as wonderfully crazy as me.
At the end of the day, I turn to my husband—my best friend—and my amazing kids. Because no matter how imperfect we are, we show up for each other. My husband is brutally honest, and sometimes, that honesty stings like hell. But it’s what I’ve always needed—honesty and loyalty. And that, my friends, is rare.
I would move mountains for a real friend. I am loyal to the bone. But if you betray me, you won’t get the chance to do it three times because, believe it or not, I always give second chances.
I have a few online friends who are my ride-or-die, and I’m so grateful for them. But sometimes, I wonder… would it be the same if they lived closer? Would they grow bored of me? Would I eventually be too much?
That voice of self-doubt still lingers. Maybe it always will.
Maybe I push people away. Maybe I hold back too much.
Or maybe—just maybe—I’ve finally learned to protect my peace.
I used to think my “toxic trait” was avoiding people and then complaining that no one sticks around. I blamed it on moving too much, on my trust issues, on distance.
And honestly? I am jealous of people who still have childhood friends in their 40s or 60s. I have one, but continents and decades apart have made us strangers.
But I’m done blaming myself. I’m done blaming my parents. Their choices shaped me, but they don’t define me.
Here’s what I do know:
The people who are meant for you will never make you beg for space in their lives.
So I’m walking forward with my head held high. Because there is nothing wrong with me.
I’ve never been lonely, and I won’t start now. I’ve always enjoyed my own company—my thoughts, my peace. And I finally realize… that’s not a flaw. That’s who I am!
So, instead of overanalyzing, I’m choosing to be here, in the present. To be whole on my own and, of course, with my family.
To focus on the people who choose me—not just when it’s convenient but because they truly see me. Because those are the ones who matter.
This feels like a weight has been lifted. Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.
Drop a comment—I’d love to hear your thoughts. It’s always comforting to know I’m not alone in this.
Sending you a big virtual panda hug if you need one.
With love,
Sanna
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Becoming Enough: The Work of Self-Healing
I think everyone should journal, so here is one I just found:
Jordan Brown
