I grew up as a person who made friends easily. I was (maybe I still am) the girl who believed in the biblical “77×7” chances, who took the word “friend” so personally that if I called you mine, I carried your heart in mine. In the past, I would listen to others talk about friendship fallouts and think, with a naive certainty, Why can’t they just reconcile?
Well, not anymore.
Between graduating from university and working corporate, I’ve had to grow up fast. And in that process, people who no longer saw me as worth the love, patience, or inconvenience quietly fell away. Now, I have come to understand and appreciate that growing up means outgrowing things—not just places or behaviours, but sometimes, the people you swore you’d have by your side forever. For me, letting go of friendships means that my standards have evolved, and the kind of treatment I might have tolerated as a younger, more malleable version of myself has become a boundary that can no longer be crossed.
Still, I am not good at losing friends. Usually, I hold on tight, often until the band is stretched so thin it has no choice but to snap. But this painful process of letting go, of being let go of, has been one of the most profound teachers I’ve ever had. Some friendship breakups were caused by a stark difference in values. For others, it was behaviour I never would have imagined from someone I loved. Whatever the reason, the silence they left behind has been filled with these powerful, non-negotiable lessons.
Lesson 1: Your Life Will Go On and It Will Expand
You know those friends you were certain you couldn’t live without? The ones you sent the memes of two grannies on a park bench, captioned, “Us in 70 years”? When I ended a friendship like that for the first time ever, it revealed a strength and independence I never knew I possessed.
Suddenly, I was trying hobbies and visiting places I was too nervous to go to without their validation or at least, accompaniment. I began to not just learn about my independence but truly valued it. I realised there were unmet parts of myself I had unconsciously hidden, parts that didn’t exist when the friendship first formed, and I never nurtured because I feared that this new, evolving me wouldn’t be accepted.
For me, my feminism became more radical after I parted ways with a friend who held more traditional values. In her absence, it felt safer and more natural to be the raging feminist I was becoming. When we briefly reunited months later, it felt like I was revisiting an older version of myself—a version that had served her purpose in shaping the woman I am now, but a woman I had respectfully moved on from.
Lesson 2: Letting Go Isn’t Selfish, It’s an Act of Love
I cringe when I remember the old me. The me who would advise a friend to patch up a broken friendship simply because of the “years, love, and resources” invested. I have kissed that version of myself goodbye.
Choosing not to rekindle a friendship, especially one where you’ve quietly forgiven countless transgressions, is a profoundly selfless choice. Sometimes, letting go is the final, greatest act of love you can offer—both to yourself and to them. It’s love for yourself because you can finally honour the boundaries you’ve set. It’s love for yourself because you can stop pouring from your cup for someone who only drains it. It’s love for you both because it puts a stop to the mind games, the passive aggression, and the exhausting cycle of matching poor energy.
By releasing them, you set them free to devote their energy to more loving, productive things. Instead of clashing, making snide comments, or gossiping, you both get the space to grow. Separately.
Lesson 3: Sometimes, You Were The Toxic One Too
Distance has a funny way of bringing uncomfortable truths into focus. Weeks after one particularly painful friendship breakup, I started to see the situation with startling clarity: I began nitpicking my own actions and my own words, literally everything I did that contributed to losing my friend.
Losing a close friend will force you to hold up a mirror and finally see the full picture of who you are: the good, the bad and the ugly. You see how your defensiveness, your emotional unavailability, or your own poor communication contributed to the breakdown. It’s really humbling to recognise that you weren’t just the one who was hurt, but that you, in moments, were also the one who caused hurt. But there is so much beauty in that awareness. It gives you the chance to to learn, and to promise yourself you’ll do better in the friendships that lie ahead.
Lesson 4: New Friendships Don’t Replace Old Ones, They Redefine You
Don’t use your new friends as a rebound to escape the uncomfortable feelings that come from ending things with your ex-friend. The new people in your life should instead, be nurtured to expand your future. Each new connection introduces you to fresh perspectives, interests, and even softer parts of yourself you didn’t know existed.
With new friends, the laughter feels different, the conversations hit deeper, not because these new people are inherently “better,” but because you are in more ways than none, different. The friends you make after heartbreak are a reflection of your healing. They mirror your evolved standards, your hard-won boundaries, and your renewed sense of who you are and who you are unapologetically becoming.
How I’m Healing and Fostering New Connections
Resisting the Tug of Familiarity.
You’ll think you’ve healed from a friendship breakup, and then something—a photo on your phone, hearing their name in conversation, bumping into them at an event—will pull you ten steps back. The nostalgia hits, you miss them, and the temptation to reconnect is overwhelming. Be cautious here. While reconciliation is sometimes possible, returning to a dynamic that broke you can easily drag you back into old, toxic patterns. It is okay to miss someone and not want them back in your life.
Giving Myself Time to Form Deeper Connections
For so long, fear kept me in friendships that had long expired. Fear of being alone. Fear of “Will I ever find someone who gets me like they did?” Fear of “What if I need them tomorrow?”
I’m so glad I found the courage to face those fears, because the truth was, there was nothing to be afraid of. By trusting in myself—my charm, my giving heart, my empathy—I have, with time, formed deeper and more compatible friendships. It’s about operating from an abundance mindset, not a scarcity one. Trust that if you were capable of connecting with one amazing person, you are capable of connecting with hundreds more..
Holding On by Letting Go
Friendship, I’ve learned, isn’t always a forever home; sometimes, it’s a beautiful, necessary season. The grief of outgrowing the people I once built my world around was real and sharp, but stepping back from these friendships was never about discarding memories or devaluing the love we shared. Stepping back has just been a way for me to honor the woman I am becoming—a woman who required different kinds of support, deeper alignment, and an unwavering respect for her own boundaries.
The empty spaces they left are not voids of loneliness. They are sacred grounds where I learned to stand on my own, to listen to my intuition, and to cultivate a fierce love for my own company. Now, I approach connection not with a desperate grip, but with an open hand, choosing friendships that feel like coming home to myself.
The greatest lesson ever that letting go has taught me, is that the most enduring love story, the most critical alliance, and the most important friendship I will ever nurture is the one I have with myself: my dream woman, the woman I wake up everyday too.
