🍺The Truth with Tracy
This week, life handed me a plot twist straight out of a soap opera. I bumped into someone from my past—a person I once called a friend. You know the type: the kind of friend who makes you feel like a human doormat, all that served up with a smile. We hadn’t spoken in years, and for good reason. Our friendship ended when I finally realized that “loyalty” doesn’t mean that you should “subject yourself to emotional whiplash,” and then lie down like a doormat to be walked all over.
Still, seeing her again stirred something in me. For a brief, delusional moment, I thought, Maybe we’ve both grown. Maybe we can reconnect. Cue the dramatic music.
Two days later, I got my answer. She sent me a message that basically said, “My life is better without you.” Short. Final. Delivered with the grace of a flying brick.
And just like that, I was transported back in time—eight years, to be exact. Suddenly I was reliving every moment of self-doubt, guilt, and emotional gymnastics I’d ever performed in that friendship. I sat there thinking, Was I the problem? Did I overreact? Should I have just smiled through the disrespect like a polite Canadian at a passive-aggressive potluck?
For an hour, I spiraled. Then I remembered: oh right. I ended that friendship for a reason.
Let’s review the highlight reel:
- Chronic boundary-crossing? Check.
- Judgment and criticism disguised as “just being honest”? Check.
- Emotional support ratio: 95% her, 5% me (on a good day she might give me 7%)? Check.
- Me, cleaning her house while she crushed ten beers and accused me of thinking I was better than her because I got a psychology degree in my 40s? Oh, absolutely check. Times 10
Suddenly, her message didn’t feel like a dagger—it felt like a gift receipt. Thanks for confirming I made the right decision 7 years ago. No returns necessary.
I’ve grown since then. I no longer tolerate disrespect. I no longer confuse being needed with being valued. I no longer accept “friendship” that feels like unpaid emotional labor. I know my worth now. And spoiler alert: it’s not on clearance.
This morning, I tried to be a responsible adult. I got up, showered, sat at my desk, and attempted to work. But every few minutes, I’d get ambushed by a rogue memory and find myself blinking back tears like I was in a sad indie film. So I did something radical: I took a mental health day. I called my mom (thinking today might be a good day to clear out some other baggage), grabbed a coffee, and headed to the river with my Mom.
Because sometimes healing looks like skipping the spreadsheet and sitting by the water. Sometimes it looks like letting the river carry away the last remnants of someone else’s baggage. And sometimes it looks like saying, “Nope, not today, emotional chaos. I’ve got a latte and a lawn chair.” Or “Not today Satan, I am nipping this one in the bud without you.”
So here’s the truth I’m sipping on today:
I didn’t end the relationship because I was weak.
I ended it because I was finally strong enough to stop being hurt.
And also because I ran out of patience and tolerance for beer-fueled lectures and the embarrassing insecurities of a small minded mouse (sometimes I saw her as a cartoon character).
I’m not going back. Not to that door. Not to that version of me. Not to that story.
I’m writing a new one now. And this time, the main character knows her worth—and keeps the drama on Netflix, where it belongs.
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If you’ve ever walked away from a friendship that drained you, I see you. Let’s tell the truth together—with a little sass and a lot of heart. 💛
The Truth By Tracy 
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