I sat across the table, staring into my coffee cup as I avoided the gaze of my friend, Dianne*. We were there to talk through a terrible injustice I had committed against her. The two of us were supposed to collaborate on a work project together, one that would help grow our careers. We had agreed on a protocol for how we were to work together, pooling our resources and inviting other team members on board as a united front.
But something had happened. My ravenous ego had launched forth, and I hadn’t wanted to wait until we could take this step together. I’d justified my actions that these were people I had prior relationships with and were, therefore, my contacts. In my head, I’d seen the vision of me as a conquering hero, meeting with Dianne with an acceptance email, and guaranteeing that I was the superior partner in our venture.
Forgiveness, and trying to make amends, take courage and grace.
I hadn’t banked on receiving a rejection from one of the team members we wanted to collaborate with and then having to meet with Dianne with my tail between my legs, attempting to explain my error in judgement and my betrayal of her.
It's sometimes difficult to bounce back from conflicts — even with a dear friend. All I could do was accept responsibility, apologise profusely, and work hard to regain the trust I had lost. Now, 10 years later, this friendship is true and thriving. Forgiveness, and trying to make amends, take courage and grace. I’m very fortunate that Dianne was able to take this step with me and we managed to come back from our fall-out, but what happens if it doesn’t work? Is it worth trying still?
When I was in my 20s, I applied to all flailing friendships, seeking the last word, wanting to claim back my power. I ended one of them in a Dear John style letter, and another with a break-up phone call. Everything was black and white, no shades of grey were let in. Anyone who wronged me had to pay.
Now that I’m in my 40s, I have made room in my life for ambiguity. I am better at remembering the fact that are all flawed human beings who make mistakes, can be hurtful or full of pride. I no longer want to deal with the absolutes of a breakup and I have learnt to see the value of long-term bonds and the need to nurture them.
I realise that the best way to move forward is to let time itself be the judge.
Recently, a friend, Nancy*, hurt me badly with a series of insensitive comments and actions. I reacted with the fire of my 20s, feeling the need to take back my power, and started penning a Dear John letter that I thankfully didn’t send. Taking some good advice, I let time pass, and this gave me the opportunity to reflect on our shared memories and the reasons for the rift. I accepted my part in the situation and reached out once again, offering an olive branch, and we talked it out. After we finished speaking, I was relieved, but soon enough my anger returned.
I realised there had been no mutual amends-making, instead I had spoken my truth, but there has been no acknowledgement of responsibility from Nancy. I either had to accept that there was no apology forthcoming and move forward with the friendship as is, or let it go.
It seems to be an impossible choice because after being friends for so long, and having so many shared memories, the obvious answer seems to be to ‘keep trying’. To commit to the friendship and accept it as it is.
But there is a third way. After a brief cool-down, I realise that the best way to move forward is to let time itself be the judge. I would give myself a chance to listen to my intuition. Only time will tell whether we can find our way back to each other, or whether this friendship is no longer right for either of us — if our togetherness brings more harm than good.
As hard as it is to let it go, sometimes it can also be the kindest way forward.
*Real names were not used.
is an award-winning author of Sabiha’s Dilemma and Alma’s Loyalty, the first two books in her own voices young adult series Sassy Saints Series. Her books are published in ebook, paperback, hardcover, large print, dyslexic font and audiobook.
