JOURNAL
When friendship becomes the problem: Sometimes ending it sets you both free
There's no manual for friendship breakups. No culturally accepted script for saying goodbye to someone who once knew your deepest secrets, shared your inside jokes, and held space for your worst days. Unlike romantic relationships—where we expect beginnings, middles, and sometimes endings—friendships are supposed to last forever. Or so we tell ourselves.
But sometimes the story two people have been living together becomes the very thing that's hurting them both. Sometimes you have to become "the monster" and end something to free two people trapped in a toxic cycle they can't see their way out of.
Research shows that ending a friendship that is toxic or harmful may actually improve well-being, yet many of us stay stuck in relationships that drain rather than nourish us. Toxic friendships lead most people to frequently question themselves, often leaving them feeling angry, anxious or frustrated after spending time with this sort of friend.
The cycle usually looks familiar: one friend constantly needs rescuing while the other always does the rescuing. One dominates conversations while the other listens endlessly. One takes while the other gives until there's nothing left. Instead of being appreciated for who you are, you are valued for what you can do for them.
These patterns don't emerge overnight. They're stories that get written slowly, one interaction at a time, until suddenly you realize you've been living in a narrative that no longer serves either of you. The "giver" feels resentful and depleted. The "taker" remains stuck in their patterns because the relationship enables them. Both people suffer, but the story they're embedded in makes it impossible to see alternatives.
In narrative therapy, there's a foundational principle: the person is not the problem; rather the problem is the problem. Sometimes the problem isn't one person or the other—it's the relationship dynamic itself. Problems disguise themselves as 'truth' and totalize alternatives, exceptions and possibilities.
Friendship breakups can be harder than ending a romantic relationship because we don't expect them to happen. We tend to think about breakups in friendships as happening because of some kind of big betrayal, but more often than not, friendship breakups are the result of people gradually growing apart.
The toxic cycle becomes self-perpetuating. The friend who always needs support never learns to develop their own resources. The friend who always provides support never learns to recognize their own limits. Both get trapped in roles that constrain their growth and authentic expression.
Your feelings about this dynamic make complete sense. The exhaustion, the resentment, the feeling of being trapped—these aren't character flaws. They're normal responses to being caught in a story that's no longer working for anyone involved.
Sometimes the most loving thing you can do is refuse to participate in a dynamic that's hurting both of you. This doesn't make you selfish or cruel—it makes you honest about what's actually happening.
Research found that up to 70% of close friendships, and 52% of our social networks dissolve after 7 years. Friendship loss is incredibly common, yet we don't even have that friend anymore to turn to support us in our grieving process, or to try to work out what even happened.
The person who ends the friendship often gets labeled as the villain in the story. But consider this: by stepping out of the toxic cycle, you're actually giving both people the opportunity to write new stories. Narrative therapy aids in enhancing self-differentiation by helping individuals recognize their own thoughts and feelings, set boundaries, and prioritize their own needs and well-being.
When you refuse to enable destructive patterns, you force both people to confront the reality of what the relationship has become. This creates space for growth that didn't exist while you were both trapped in your familiar roles.
After a friendship breakup, it's common to feel anger, sadness, loneliness and anxiety about seeing the person and fearful of mutual friends picking sides. Friendship breakups hurt so much because they are so consistent in our life, leaving lasting imprints on our soul through bonds cultivated over years and intertwined with so many shared memories.
The grief is real and valid. You're not just mourning the loss of a person—you're mourning the loss of a story you thought you were living together. You're grieving the friendship you hoped it could become and accepting the reality of what it actually was.
Reflecting on lost friendships is part of the healing process, but it becomes difficult to move forward if you "obsess" over it. Allow yourself to feel the sadness without trying to fix or change what happened. Some endings don't come with neat explanations or mutual understanding.
The end of a toxic friendship isn't just about cutting someone out of your life—it's about reclaiming your own story. Narrative therapy empowers individuals to reshape their life stories, emphasizing strengths & values to overcome challenges.
When you step out of dynamics that constrain you, you create space to discover who you are outside of those limiting roles. The person who was always the rescuer gets to explore what it's like to receive support. The person who was always the listener gets to practice speaking their truth.
Externalization techniques can help you understand that your problems don't define who you are and realize that it's easier to change your behavior than change your identity. The toxic cycle was the problem—not you, not them, but the story you were living together.
When you end a friendship that isn't serving either person, you model something radical: that relationships should enhance life, not diminish it. You demonstrate that it's possible to choose growth over comfort, truth over familiarity.
A skilled relationship therapist can help you find closure for yourself, and also give you insights to consider with future friendships. Sometimes the most important work happens after the ending—learning to recognize your own patterns, understanding your boundaries, and developing the skills to build healthier connections.
The friend you've left behind gets an opportunity too, though they may not see it immediately. Without you to fall back on, they're forced to develop resources they might never have discovered otherwise. The crisis of losing the friendship could become the catalyst for their own growth story.
You don't owe anyone participation in dynamics that harm you both. You don't have to set yourself on fire to keep someone else warm. And you don't have to apologize for refusing to enable patterns that prevent both of you from becoming who you're meant to be.
Making friends and keeping them is a skill that we build over time, so give yourself the permission and compassion to learn by taking on more of a growth mindset when it comes to relationships.
Sometimes ending a friendship is the most loving thing you can do—not just for yourself, but for the other person too. It takes courage to disrupt familiar patterns, even when those patterns are painful. It takes strength to choose truth over peace.
Your hurt feelings about what the friendship became are valid. Your decision to step away from what wasn't working makes complete sense. And your capacity to write new, healthier stories about connection and relationship is real.
Not every friendship is meant to last forever. Some relationships serve their purpose by teaching us what we need to learn about ourselves, our boundaries, and our capacity for growth. The ending doesn't erase the meaning—it completes it.
The story you're writing now, where you honor your own wellbeing and refuse to participate in dynamics that hurt both people involved, is a story worth telling. It's a story of courage, growth, and the radical act of choosing authenticity over comfort.
Sometimes you have to be willing to be seen as the monster to set everyone free. The people who matter will understand that love sometimes looks like letting go.