Her Campus at U Ottawa acknowledges that we are located on the stolen and unsurrendered land of the Algonquin people.
Recently I had a falling out with a friend.Â
It sucked. I was reminded of why I have limited my contact with people in the past. When I decided to leave my old friend group, I had to get used to being alone. While I don’t regret taking that step, I’ll admit I was very lonely at times. When university came around, it was my chance to find new people to befriend. After a year of online school, I finally had that chance when classes returned in person. I found a group of girls who I really loved spending time with. I felt comfortable and appreciated as a part of that group. My happiness was indescribable—I felt like I finally found what I was missing. There’s nothing like the support of a group of girls. The laughs, jokes, and conversations with the girlies are core memories.Â
But all good things come to an end.
I know I’m not the easiest person to be around: I grew up in a tougher environment, one where you had to have skin of steel to navigate the barbed wires of society. But we’re human—imperfect creatures with jagged edges. All we can hope for is to find others whose own jagged edges fit ours. I have been aware of my toughness and tried to compensate. I tried my hardest to be the best kind of friend I could be. I helped, always replied to texts, checked in with friends, and cared. I cared a lot.
So it was like a stab in the heart when a millisecond reaction brought the friendship into ruins, like a house of cards facing a gust of wind.Â
My mind was an uncomfortable place to be in for the days after. My insecurities reared their heads; the voices were loud and harsh, making me second-guess every action, smile, and word uttered. I kept thinking, “Am I actually a bad person?” “Was I just really good at convincing people I’m nice?” I felt like Taylor Swift’s “Mastermind.” There were thoughts and emotions I thought I’d gotten past, that I’d healed from. Unfortunately, it felt like I was back at square one.Â
As the days wore on, and with the support of my mom (who occupies not just the role of mom but also best friend and therapist), I dissected the situation. I figured out where I went wrong and where I didn’t. I identified my mistakes and learned from them. I believe that everything happens for a reason, so this happening must teach me a lesson. I reflected, I wrote, and I talked about it. The situation was never acknowledged by the other parties involved after the fact and when I did try to bring it up, it was ignored. I never got to say my piece and I didn’t want it to fester inside of me. I needed it out of my system and into the world.Â
Coincidentally, I was scrolling through Instagram when I came across a reel. The caption was something along the lines of “when every friendship becomes a life lesson.” It was referring to how when a friendship fizzles out or ends, it serves as a life lesson. You learn from it and try to grow to be a better person using what you’ve learned.
Am I tired of my friendships becoming life lessons? Absolutely! It sucks. It sucks every time that I realize it’s time for class and the chairs around me in our usual spot are empty. It sucks when I notice the lack of notifications on my phone. It sucks because of the dwindled conversations and air of awkwardness hanging around when I do meet with the group. It sucks to not be enough—to be the one who fell through the chiasm of the group’s fraction.Â
Regardless, we live and we learn. Â
This whole experience has taught me a lot: even though it was painful, there’s a reason they call it growing pains. As we push against other people, sometimes our own jagged edges scrape and scream against one another. No matter how much you might try to make it fit, sometimes it’s just not possible. Realizing that is important—you don’t want to break your pieces trying to make something fit. Over the years and as we experience life, our edges will get smoothed out, just like great mountain peaks do in nature. So, to everyone experiencing these growing pains, hang in there because it’ll get better.