We used to be extremely close, but I just don’t feel the same.

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Dear Hera,

I met my friend back in university. While waiting for our class to begin, we began talking to pass the time and hit it off immediately. I was a pretty lonely student, and I’ve never been especially good at forming bonds, so it was a real life-saver to come across a friendship like this at that time in my life.

Over time, we became extremely close. Meeting up several times a week, having our own little rituals and inside jokes… I truly cherish those times.

Recently though, I’ve found myself dreading any time we spend together. I don’t find myself laughing at the same jokes they do, I don’t appreciate the way they talk to my family, I don’t like that I feel as though I’m walking on eggshells at times, and I simply don’t feel the same level of affection for them as I once did.

I do still love them as a friend, but I feel as though I am a much different person than I was when we first met. I would love to keep hanging out, because when we do I have fun (as I hope they do)! But the level of affection they expect from me, and the constant callbacks to things about myself that – while true when we met – are no longer relevant, are causing more strife that I would like.

I know it will likely all come down to communication, but how do I tell them this without falling into the “it’s not you, it’s me” cliché.

Sincerely,

Changed

Dear Changed,

There’s no easy way to tell someone you’d prefer to see a lot less of them. Breaking up is hard enough. Figuring out how to de-escalate a once-close friendship requires Olympic levels of emotional tact. You can try your best to stick the landing, but a few feelings are inevitably going to be hurt along the way. 

Your problem isn’t uncommon. University is the perfect time to embark upon dangerously co-dependent friendships with charming but emotionally unstable people and do a lot of things you’ll both look back on with a fond mixture of nostalgia and shame. The intensity of these friendships usually fades with time, as people grow up and move on with their lives. But what do you do when one of you wants to stay close, and the other needs space? 

I think it all depends on what you truly want to happen here. You say you don’t want to end your friendship. But you go on to say you dread spending time with this friend, often feel like you’re walking on eggshells, and don’t feel as much affection towards them as you used to. Is this really a relationship you’re eager to preserve, or are you just trying to soften the blow? 

To me, it sounds as if you’d prefer to keep this friend on in a purely ceremonial capacity, occasionally wheeling them out for a wedding or round of mini-golf, but significantly dialling back your level of emotional obligation. 

There’s nothing wrong with feeling this way. Sometimes we simply outgrow people. But I think you need to be honest with yourself about exactly what kind of relationship you want; otherwise, you’re just prolonging the inevitable.

However. It’s hard to adequately convey the nuanced history of a complicated friendship in a short anonymous letter, so I’ll take you at your word that you want to try and keep this person in your life, albeit in a slightly reduced capacity. 

What you want may not be possible. Demoting a best friend to a friendly acquaintance is almost as difficult as divorcing your wife, then asking her for a friends with benefits arrangement. It’s only likely to work if you’re both on the same page. Reading between the lines, it seems like you’re not even reading the same book. Your friend is still living their Babysitter’s Club Summer Bumper Special fantasy, and you’re starting to feel like the B character in a Highsmith novel.

Under normal circumstances, I think a slow fade is the most polite way to gradually reduce the intensity of a complicated friendship. People say they want transparency and honesty, but many of the people who claim they want this are uniquely incapable of handling a straight answer. This is fair enough. Most people prefer a few kind hints to a brutal and uncompromising truth.

Your friend, however, sounds like a fairly direct person, so you might need to learn to be more assertive. Instead of jumping headlong into a serious conversation about the state of your relationship, I would start by pushing back at some of the behaviour which makes you uncomfortable. If your friend talks to your family in a way you find offensive, you should summon up the courage to say something. It will be awkward at first, especially if you’re not used to standing up for yourself, but if the alternative is privately swallowing all your resentments for the rest of your friendship, you might as well call it quits now.

When your friend brings up anecdotes from a past you’re sick of endlessly rehashing, it’s OK to say so. Tell them you’re trying to escape your youthful indiscretions, and that it doesn’t feel good to have your past brought up every ten minutes. If you don’t feel like hanging out, say so. If this upsets your friend and triggers an emergency conversation about the state of your relationship, then by all means, feel free to have it.

Observing how your friend responds to these gentle pushbacks will tell you a lot about whether your friendship can be salvaged. Can they respect you for who you are now, or do they need for you to be the same person you were at university? Can they accept a little constructive criticism without making a joke or having an emotional meltdown?

Good friendships allow plenty of room for both people to change and grow. If your friend is able to hear your concerns, that’s a good sign your friendship will be able to evolve. But if your friend is determined to keep you hostage to a mutual past, it’s OK to decide to move on without them.