In the name of love…
[No. 89]
GIRLFRIEND BREAKUP. MUCH MORE CHALLENGING THAN A ROMANTIC BREAKUP. HOW TO, WHEN I FEEL IN THE PRESENT, AND SHE IS HARBORING IN THE PAST.
A piece by novelist & journalist Colleen Hamilton
Friendship breakups can tear us in two. The heart might not be aware of the distinction between romantic and platonic love. It only recognizes the searing pain of loss. Which is to say, breakups of any kind require patience, curiosity, and enormous grace.
I have some experience on this front.
Recently, I experienced a deep conflict with someone I considered one of my dearest friends. Closeness exponentially increased the pain because I yearned for understanding and intimacy. The questions cascaded: Don’t we have the same values? What does it mean that I can’t hold this relationship? What am I not seeing?
This is not the first friendship that has been in a process of rupture. At the ripe age of 28, I started to realize that many of my relationships were hinging on what Audre Lorde describes as the “psychic milking” of women. [She emphasizes that this is increased for Black women and femmes.] I have emotionally supported everyone in my life at the expense of myself.
For a long time, I didn’t believe I was worthy of love unless I proved it every single day. And yet by not taking care of myself, I was exploiting people with my own need for validation. I wasn’t truly experiencing them or allowing myself to be experienced. I was closing myself off from connection by trying to keep it together all the time.
As a result, I have set new boundaries. I am no longer interested in relationships that require me to betray any aspect of myself—the personal, political, or erotic. I vow to feel radically present and whole. In order to do transformative work in relationships, we must also do transformative work in ourselves. Here are two lessons that have shaped how I approach growth, which I hope might offer some insight.
The first is to notice when the ego—that king of smoke and mirrors—appears. On bad days, Ego arrives in my mind with pomp and circumstance. There are trombones, golden robes, and extreme demands. He believes that he alone must monitor his tiny kingdom. He is not a good friend. When I find myself in fights, I have to ask myself, “Is Ego running the show or the other, quieter, truer parts of myself?”
Alien, we are each figuring out how to be in the midst of this brutal reality—caught in the net of so many pasts—while attempting to move toward love. If your friend is living in the past, it is often because there is an unresolved trauma or hurt there. I wonder, beneath the yearning for closeness, have you sat quietly and really heard your beloved? Here are some conversation starters: What about our past is making it difficult for you to feel close now? What do you need to say in order to move forward as a friend? What actions can I take in the present to make healing seem possible in the future? Create a dock in her harbor. If you crave true resolution, my instinct is that this is where the work must begin. It will be hard, messy, difficult work. With the right person, it will also free you. 
The second lesson of this conflict-ridden time of my life is knowing when to let go. I have had to wean myself from making sure everyone around me is comfortable. It is painful when it involves those we hold closest. And yet, when I advocate for myself with the right people, my world expands. After a recent layoff, I allowed the support from my community to pour into me. The people who showed up are my truest siblings. I argue with them. I pray for them. I dream alongside them.
Although it is scary, conflict should not be seen as the end of a relationship. Sometimes, it is a longed-for beginning or inflection point. We can fight deeply and still be loved. At its best, friendship is a place where we can experiment with our visions of the world. Alien, I believe in your capacity to heal, either with your friend or apart. You can create a life that is so big—so ample and vivacious—that there is enough room for everyone. Even a long-lost friend who might one day walk through your door. Life has a way of surprising us.
Love,
Coco