Conflict with a friend
21F
I had a fight with my friend that led to the demise of our friendship. I’ve decided not to reconcile or make amends because she doesn’t deserve someone like me.
The fight started because I was deeply depressed. Normally, when I’m feeling low and need a break, I would tell her, but this time, just this once, I fell short. Instead of being honest, I lied and said I hadn’t seen her messages when she reached out to check on me.
During the fight, which was shocking, I felt like a completely different person. Imagine a time jump between the same character played by two different actors of different ages. That’s what I was like during the fight versus the aftermath. It was shocking to me. I remember my initial reaction during the fight was to cater to her needs, reassure her, apologize, and own up to my mistakes, which I did. Yet, no matter what I said, it didn’t satisfy her, and that started to stress me out. When she asked me questions and I answered truthfully, admitting I lied and apologizing, she got angrier. The angrier she got, the more confrontational and harsh her tone became, and that scared me. I didn’t realize it back then because I thought her reaction was valid since I hurt her, but deep down, my authentic self was locked away and only started emerging slowly 16 days after the fight. I wasn’t aware I was afraid, but now I know. I was afraid because she grew angrier and more confrontational, and what I did was try to own up without making excuses.
But the problem was when she asked why I did something, and I gave my perspective, she would respond by saying it didn’t make sense, making me doubt myself even more. I believed she was right, and my explanations didn’t make sense. Then she said, “I just feel like you know what to say, like the right thing to say at any moment.” Upon further reflection, I realized how hurtful her comment was because she was implying I was manipulative, twisting the narrative to fit my agenda and come clean. I started to lose it and have a panic attack. I was in a fawn response, unable to access my needs or vocabulary, becoming silent, shut down, fatigued, scared, and fighting for my life. Despite my fawn nature, I tried my hardest to be present, but I was dissociating, going in and out, and my mom and sister were bothering me. I went to the bathroom to talk, and they were banging on the door, being so loud that I got overwhelmed. On one hand, they were talking to me loudly, and on the other hand, she was yelling at me on the phone.
Because I didn’t see anything wrong with her actions at the time, it felt like playing a role embodied by two different actors—the same role during the fight and the aftermath, but different actors. Back then, I was out of touch with myself, which is unusual for me since I’m always in touch with my needs and myself. I didn’t realize she was being harsh and crossing the line. In my head, I was thinking it was all my fault, and I needed to fix it and appeal to her. When I was tapping out, I asked her to repeat herself because I forgot what I said, and she sighed, clearly annoyed, accusing me of gaslighting her. That threw me off because in the past, I made a joke just one time about her gaslighting me. She had told me not to use that word lightly or jokingly, and I apologized and never did it again. So, when she used that word with me, it stung on many levels. I felt frozen, not knowing what I was feeling other than an intense frozen state. Upon further reflection, I realized how twisted and wrong it was. Asking her to repeat herself because I forgot what I said is valid given the heat of the argument and our different conflict styles.
Then it became a tug of war. She asked if there were other times I lied. She told me that she isn’t okay about lying because of her past toxic friends were liars and couldn’t understand why I lied. That made me freak out even more, causing me to mistrust my own perception of reality and judgment. When she asked about other lies, I tried to think hard and was happy when I found a recent lie about being tired. It was when she asked me if I was tired and I said no. She said, “Okay, whatever. I’m not the kind to dwell on the past because it’s not healthy for moving forward.” That gave me momentary relief. Then she asked if I lied about seeing her tattoo on her new Twitter profile picture. I freaked out because the fight shifted from me needing a break to a Twitter profile picture. It was unfair and ironic since she claimed not to dwell on the past but brought this up two weeks later. When she asked, I pretended not to hear so I could quickly check Twitter and lie, but I couldn’t, so I admitted it. She was angry and asked why. I explained I thought of a time she posted a filtered picture on Tumblr and replaced the Twitter picture with that in my mind. She had a hard time understanding until she finally did, then asked me to send the picture. Before that, she kept saying it didn’t make sense because we talk on Twitter, not Tumblr, which made me mistrust myself more. I wasn’t lying; we do see each other’s posts on Tumblr even if we don’t engage there.
I sent the picture, and she got angry, saying I didn’t even like the picture, which paralyzed me more. I might have said I liked and stalked her on Tumblr but overlooked this post, which doesn’t mean I lied or should cause her to question my integrity. It’s mind-boggling how she hyper-focused on the “like” part, implying I lied about liking her posts. It became a back-and-forth questioning. She asked why I lied, and I honestly said I didn’t know because I needed time to process and was beyond exhausted and in a fawn response. She wasn’t happy. She’s direct but lacks boundaries, often becoming confrontational and harsh. She demanded answers, and when I didn’t give them, she suggested I didn’t want to hear her talk about her tattoos just like how sometimes she doesn’t want to hear me talk about my books. That hurt because it wasn’t true; I wanted to compliment her, and her getting a tattoo was a milestone. She celebrated my milestone, and I felt guilty for not seeing hers. Putting words into my mouth and enforcing a perspective was hurtful.
Then it was a back-and-forth tug of war. She told me to focus and have clarity, but I was panicking and couldn’t. When I moved to the kitchen and asked what she was saying, she said, “GIRL, am I to believe you didn’t hear what I said?” I blacked out after that. At the end, she said, “So you admit you’re a liar.” I’m not sure what I said; I don’t know if I said yes, but I hope I didn’t because how will I ever forgive myself for succumbing to her twisted view. I wanted to say, “Just because I lied, it doesn’t make me a liar,” but I silenced myself to avoid angering her. We ended the conversation by agreeing to talk in a few days, and she laughed, saying we would. Six days later, I messaged her, but she didn’t respond. Two weeks later, she removed me from her socials, then blocked me. She also ignored her financial responsibilities under my name.
I bought her a phone subscription under my name because of her low credit score, made sure she had 3GB of 4G, and that it was eligible for use in the EU. She ignored that responsibility, and now I have to deal with the consequences.
At the time I bought the SIM card for her, she was living with her abusive brother, who was emotionally abusive and would even hide food from her. I was there for her in every way possible. Before I got her the SIM card, I offered my phone number for job interviews, and when they called, we would FaceTime using our iPads while my phone was on speaker so she could talk. I helped her with resources, sent her packages, especially period care items, because she was too depressed to go out and didn’t want to ask her brother. I went above and beyond to support her in every way for 10 months, proving how reliable and trustworthy I was.
For her to judge my character based on a single instance, and worse yet, to abandon the financial responsibility she had under my name, is incredibly hurtful. That responsibility has now increased, and I’m struggling to pay it off, which is affecting my credit score—something I overlooked at the time because I trusted her. I even turned a blind eye when she purchased an iPad under her brother’s name. She asked him if it was okay, and he agreed, especially since they both agreed that she was going to pay it off and he was generous about it. But when he started showing his true abusive nature, she stopped paying for the iPad, which messed up his credit score until he eventually paid it all off himself.
At the time, I empathized with her so deeply that I started adopting her mentality. I thought to myself, “It makes sense to respond this way.” But it wasn’t until she treated me the same way that I began to see things clearly. Even though her brother was abusive and some might argue he deserved it, her actions revealed a lot about her so-called integrity and honesty. It showed that she couldn’t commit to her responsibilities and couldn’t separate personal grievances from her obligations.
I know that if I were in her position, I would have handled it differently—proof of that is how I am currently dealing with my own emotionally abusive mother. She’s narcissistic, but I have financial commitments under her name, and I’ve always paid them off because I believe that obligations should be honored, no matter how you feel about the person. It wasn’t until I experienced this betrayal firsthand that I realized just how morally twisted she is. She bends her morals to suit her feelings at the moment, and the more I reflect on it, the more I see that she did the same to me, even though I’ve never been that kind of person. I’ve been there for her through everything, yet she couldn’t extend the same respect and integrity toward me.
What angered me the most was her double standard. She claimed to value honesty above all else, yet she abandoned her financial responsibilities under my name. She ignored that responsibility, leaving me to deal with the consequences. It’s infuriating that she felt justified in labeling me a liar and taking the moral high ground, all while she conveniently abandoned her own commitments. If she truly valued honesty and integrity, she wouldn’t have left me to bear the financial burden she agreed to.
In the end, it became clear to me that while she was quick to judge me for a single mistake, she was entirely comfortable compromising her own ethics when it suited her. This realization hit me hard after our breakup, making me see that if I were in her position, I would have handled things differently—I would have honored my commitments, regardless of the emotional turmoil.
This conflict made me realize something important: for a long time, I thought I needed to work on myself because of how she confronted me. Don’t get me wrong—I’m always working on myself. I do muhasabah daily and strive to be the best version of myself. However, her confrontational nature made me question whether something was fundamentally wrong with me, convincing me that I was a liar and needed to fix that. But when I took a deep look within, I saw that I’ve always valued honesty. The only times I’ve lied were when I was people-pleasing, which I’m actively working to overcome.
In this particular situation, I lied about seeing her calls because I knew she needed me, and the guilt overwhelmed me. It was a mistake, not a pattern. Usually, when I’m feeling this way, I would tell her, but this time it was just too much.
Response from a “Fatima counselor”:
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Here are some additional posts on this topic that you may find helpful: https://www.stonestobridges.org/tag/friendships/