Notes On: Friendship Breakups
(Bc all adventurous women do)
āNearly everything I know about love, Iāve learnt from my longāterm friendships with womenā ā Dolly Alderton
āIt is better to have loved and lost, than to never have loved at allā ā Alfred Lord Tennyson
āIād like to remind the three of you not to sleep on this friendship, because I know it feels like itās just gonna be, like, love and lust pushing you forward, but lust fades and friendship never does, if you nurture itā ā Hannah, in GIRLS, right before they all break up
Notes from the Mailbox:
Letting go of friendship heartbreak and starting to trust people again! (i.e. it's been five years since my ex bff and i broke up and I'm still having A Time about it)
I would love to read something about friendship heartbreak or about growing apart from those who you thought would be your best friends forever. Still remaining friends but not having the same connection as you did once
According to folklore, girls grow up dreaming about their weddings. For me, this was only partly true. I grew up dreaming not of the person Iād marry at my wedding, no, I liked to imagine who would be my maid of honour. As a teenager, the biggest testament of platonic love, for me, was saying to a friend: āI can just tell, weāre going to be in each otherās weddings.ā It was conspiratorial, hopeful, exciting, this idea that one day ā a day so far into the future itās hard even to contemplate ā our wedding days would be marked not by marrying someone we loved (after all, we couldnāt quite picture that yet), but by how long weād been friends with the people who were celebrating with us.
Now, on the brink of thirty, a lot of my friends are getting married. And a lot of their friends are getting married. And one topic that seems to come up a lot, is the concept of a friendship break up. Because whilst getting married is about celebrating a romantic relationship, itās a touchpoint, a moment to step back and reflect: who do I value in my life? Who am I very close to? Choosing bridesmaids and maid(s) of honour reminds me, perhaps unflatteringly, of MSN close friends list. And ā shockingly ā it has the capacity to ruin friendships.
Over the past few months, Iāve heard of several separate stories of brides who no longer speak to people they chose to be their bridesmaids because of things that happened at or around their weddings. At first, I was shocked, but the more I thought about it ā and spoke to friends about it ā the more I understood. These are momentous moments in peopleās lives, and they also bring up so much for those around them. Theyāre this cornucopia of joy and excitement and hope for a joint future for the couple involved. But theyāre also a touchpoint for those around them: am I happy, romantically? Do I have this many people whoād want to celebrate me? Could I afford all of this, if I wanted to?
According to research by Aviva, the average cost of a hen do in the UK is Ā£779 per person. This rises to 1,208 if itās abroad. And then thereās the bridesmaid dress, and the time off work, and the wedding present. Youāre frequently looking at an average of Ā£1,000 or more for the whole thing. All of this, of course, can cause tension. Friendship break ups are apparently so common whilst planning a wedding that Google is littered with advice and think pieces like āHow to Keep Your Friendships Intact While Wedding Planningā and āDoes wedding season mark the end of friendships?ā and āIs a Friendship Breakup Inevitable While Wedding Planning?ā and āWhen Weddings End Friendshipsā (the latest one in Vogue).
So, when I asked what youād like me to write about, this week, and the answer was āfriendship breakupsā, I couldnāt wait to research it. And when I asked for specific stories, on Instagram, my replies were flooded. There were so many, it was actually hard to read them all. Everyone, it seems, has experienced a friendship break up that felt, and Iām quoting here, ālike heartbreak.ā Why is this? And why donāt we all talk about it more? Hereās my take. I hope it brings you comfort.
On Romanticising Female Friendship
Weāre currently living through an era that I like to call āThe Romanticisation of Female Friendshipā. This, of course, is the millennial prioritisation of female friendship that sits squarely on the shoulders of sitcoms like Friends and Sex and the City, now repurposed it to include pubic hair and unabashed nakedness and problematic, always-late, type-B friends whoāre always getting off with older men but you love them anyway.
Culturally, it was needed, I think ā this romanticisation of female friendship. We needed a chapter ā in literature, in the world ā in which we de-centred men and idolised our female friends. Wrote love letters to them. Dated them. Prioritised them. (Examples include: Fleabag, Broad City, How I Met Your Mother, The Bold Type, Gilmore Girls, Grace and Frankie, Animals by Emma Jane Unsworth, The Girls by Emma Cline, Ghosts by Dolly Alderton, the list goes on). So all-pervasive is this (iconic) trend, that itās one of the few truly millennial things that Gen Z has adopted for themselves. Personally, I love it. But it does contribute to this narrative that (Female) Friends Are For Life, and to lose one is therefore to fail.
On The Cold Hard Facts
There was this guy called Robin Dunbar who did some research on primates ā and then on humans ā and came to the conclusion that a person can only have 150 social relationships at any one point, and only five of them are close friends (or āintimatesā). But ā and this is a huge but ā 60% of our time is actually spent with those five close ones.
Other research has shown that 52% of these social networks ā and up to 70% of close friends ā melt away every seven years, to be replaced by new ones. So, according to the Cold Hard Facts, everyone probably has experienced a friendship break up. Including me. And it is searing. It makes you question everything, comb back through every interaction looking for clues. But the worst part? The worst part is that it feels shameful. Because in a 2025 ā smack bang in the middle of The Romanticisation Of The Female Friendship era ā it feels like youāve done something wrong, to lose one.
So, Iāve done some research. Hereās why it feels so uniquely terrible, to lose a close friend:
Girl, so uncommunicative
According to various articles, a huge reason friendships end is the perceived imbalance of emotional labour, or even closeness, which is never disclosed. And most friendships apparently end with the slow fade. Thereās no clear ābreak upā moment, no big fight, just slower replies, those āomg Iām so sorry Iāve been sooooo busy with workā texts every few months until they stop coming all together. It feels like being ghosted because it sort of is being ghosted. Per The Atlantic: āMost friendships die not in pyrotechnics, but a quiet, gray dissolveā.
What now?!
Unlike with romantic relationships, thereās no guidebook for navigating a friendship break up. There are no cultural milestones, no āeat ice cream for two weeks, delete all the photos, go out with your friends, get under someone to get over someoneā articles. Youāre just drifting, unsure of what happened, unsure what to do with the grief, because it isnāt really grief, is it? (Hint: yes, it is). (Also: I have actually created a āHeartbreak Handbookā for friendship break-ups. You can find it here).
Okay, but, sheās still there
The thing about close friends is that theyāre often entwined in your social circles. To lose one, and keep seeing them? Thatās a new kind of pain. A lot of those reaching out to me said they were still friends after the fall out, but nowhere near as close as before. Which, I think, might be even worse. (One even described it as ākeeping the wound openā. This makes me want to weep).
Losing The Old You
According to Forbes, ācertain friendships become synonymous with our identities... when we lose them, we lose part of ourselves.ā Iām not sure I need to add anything, here. Heartbreak hits different when youāre losing a part of yourself, too.
On Love and Loss
According to the facts, then, most people have experienced a friendship break up, and yet thereās such a taboo around it. In the era of romanticising female friendships, to admit to losing one feels akin to saying: itās me, hi, Iām the walking red flag.
