Tug of war: a game where we are taught to hold on so tightly that it hurts. As the rope burns into your palms, and your knees begin to get weak from your semi-crouched stance, you begin to feel the opposing side loosening its grip. You know that if you hold on for just a bit longer, you'll come out on top. But to what end?
Burnt, raw palms, sore legs, dripping sweat-all because you held on too long. Not to mention, someone on the opposite end feels fully defeated. Instead of happiness and pride, you feel just as defeated-if not even more so, due to the exhausting effort to hold on.
It is in that moment that we can see the beauty in letting go.
The physical game we often played as children can easily be used to draw comparison to the lifelong "tug of war" we play with our relationships-particularly our longtime friendships. The difference between the physical and mental games truly lies within the aftermath and trajectory of the two. One brings temporary physical exhaustion and pain, while the other brings on a more permanent type of hardship. A hardship that continues to build until you get to a point of no return.
More times than not, we make friends in early adulthood, and tend to keep them around as we age. As the natural process of aging happens, we tend to also evolve as people. Careers, romantic relationships, kids, and personal soul searching all help mold us into who we are. As much as we hate to admit it, the people and things we allow into our lives easily influence us. So, what happens when you and your friend have now grown into totally different people, and their influence evolves into a negative one?
The things you once bonded over are minimal in comparison to the things that you now strongly differ over. Long gone are the wants to share the same music taste, or the same love for late night Jack in the Box tacos (ALWAYS with the buttermilk ranch). We now want someone who will feel the same way as we do about what takes priority in life. We now want someone who will understand when we go radio silent for a few weeks, and then reach out like no time was lost. We now want-and deserve-someone who will bring more positive light into our life versus leaving us emotionally exhausted after every interaction.
Through our personal evolution, some of our friendships naturally take their course, and by the end of it we find that we have drifted apart. When this happens, sure, you may still have the feeling of an empty void that this person once filled, but this is a mentally easy way out since it was a mutual end. There are no fights, no real arguments, no one person alienating the other; you both are simply in a new place in life where you have different priorities that take you in opposite directions. Every once in a while something may remind you of that person, and you may feel that small pang in your chest as you reminisce on good times. But, just as quickly as the pang came about, it also goes away, and you continue on without a hiccup.
Other times, you find that you have diverged, but you continue to hold on due to the history that you have. At times ending up on different paths does work. You may not be each other's top priority anymore, but you have a mutual understanding allowing for a trip down memory lane and a catch up session every so often over a drink or two.
But then...sigh. We have those friendships that we try our hardest to fight for even though it is crystal clear that the two of us are on different pages.
Don't get me wrong; a difference in some priorities is not a deal breaker, nor is needing my support as a friend. However, many of us get caught in a loop with naturally toxic people who won't allow for your needs to exist side by side. These people tend to prioritize themselves, and in return, even if unintentionally, push your needs all the way to the bottom of the barrel. When you are stuck in a friendship like this, differences in values and norms that you have acquired over the years come to light and you begin to see the person for who they truly are.
When you had less on your plate and more time to yourself, these relationships didn't seem so bad. You were ok spending your free time helping them because you had plenty of free time to spare. You were ok getting wrapped up in their negativity because we naturally want to be the one to help fix the problem. You were ok letting them drain your energy because your energy was never ending. You might not have even fully taken stock of what was happening, because you were able to handle it.
Now, things are different.
Life happened, and you are barely staying afloat. You are continuously tired; your mental health rapidly declines from the stress of everyday life, the time for yourself is slim to non-existent because you now have real-life problems of your own to tackle. When you do have the rare chance to breathe, you want to spend it investing in self-care, strengthening your relationship with yourself, your family, or those that bring you happiness and internal peace. The furthest things from your mind in those moments are senseless problems that someone creates just for the mere hell of it, and that's exactly how it should be.
Instead of allowing you time to deal with your own life, you have someone who has built an unhealthy co-dependency. Someone who thinks that if you do not communicate daily, something is wrong, but somehow you always have to text first. Someone who constantly seems to be wrapped up in some kind of problem (and often the SAME problems on repeat), eager for a solution, but when you offer a feasible one they push it to the side, and continue to wallow in the drama. It's clear that this person only seeks attention and affirmation.
How long is this sustainable for you? How long can you remain sane in a friendship that does not allow an outlet for your problems, but rather only adds to them? How long can you continue to allow someone to soak up all your time and energy, when they don't give up even a small fraction of theirs for you? How long can you allow for your own needs and wants to be neglected? If you value and respect yourself at all, then not long. That is not only ok, but you also completely deserve to put yourself first.
You attempt to communicate your concerns with your friend and they listen, but they don't hear you. You attempt to put some distance there for your own sake, but they don't understand you, and get mad. You try new things and go out with other friends, and they get jealous. You attempt to say no, but the guilt doesn't let you. You once again are spinning on your axis with them as your center point. You once again are entrapped in their negativity and drama, and your own needs are pushed to the side. You once again are burning your palms because you are holding on.
Why do we hold on when our palms are burning? Why do we try so hard to hold onto friendships that no longer bring anything to our life? Why do we keep drinking out of the same toxic cup, when we know it's poisoning us? Why do we continue to hold on when it clearly doesn't work anymore ? Why do we continue to try and make it work with someone whose priorities differ heavily from ours?
Why? Because of our fear to let go.
The fear of letting go can be caused by a variety of reasons that more likely than not hold some validity after years of friendship. When we consider ending friendships, we treat the thought process almost identically to the way we would treat the thought process behind considering ending a romance. It's easy to get sucked into The Sunk Cost Fallacy. People tend to continue with a fruitless endeavor if they have already invested time, effort, or money into it, whether or not the current costs outweigh the benefits. In fact, all of those investments lead them to cling tighter, even if it's clear they will never succeed. In other words, when it comes to toxic friendships, we might be holding on because of the history. We fear losing everything that comes along with this friendship, even if it has become something that has no foreseeable positive outcome. The solution is easier said than done: to give up. To let go. To free ourselves.
Ending a lengthy friendship can involve much more than two people cutting off ties. It typically means there will be a larger group of friends affected because after so many years, your friends became theirs, and theirs became yours. Your significant others might be friends. Your kids might play together. You may be co-workers, or you may participate in the same hobbies or activities. How do you deal with the aftermath of walking out on that friendship when both families are likely invested to some extent, or all of your friends are the same, or your main extracurricular group is the same? Ultimately, all of these pressures might prevent you from taking any action. You may simply find it hard to admit to yourself that this person is as toxic as they are, even though deep down you know it's true, and you know you deserve better.
It's human nature to fear the unknown, and to fear that by letting go, we will be making a mistake. It's normal to fear that we will miss that person, to fear the unfamiliar, and to fear the loss-of everything that comes along with walking away.
So we hold on.
But, my friends, the true beauty lies in letting go of something toxic, and heading into the unfamiliar journey of learning to make yourself your own center point. We are always taught to steer clear of being selfish. What happens when we are so un-selfish that we hurt ourselves? Even though the process of alienating someone for your own self-interest seems wrong, it is ultimately the best for everyone involved. You just have to get over the biggest hurdle: pulling the plug.
For once, be selfish, let go, and choose yourself.
-A