It’s a surreal kind of a mindfuck when you realize the people who used to be your absolute ride-or-dies back in school or college are basically strangers now. Sure, you still spam each other with memes, text the occasional gossip, or even grab coffee once a month to catch up.
But then, a moment of pure disconnection hits you out of nowhere. You find yourself peeking at them over the rim of your mug while they’re venting about their job, a new apartment, or some random office drama, and you suddenly just freeze.
When Long-Time Friendships Go Off-Key
It’s like when I’d listen to my favorite song on a Walkman and suddenly realize the batteries were dying. The music kept playing, but it sounded distorted, off-key and agonizingly slow. That’s how it feels now when I interact with some of my friends from almost two decades ago.
At this stage of established adulthood, I have come to realise that some friendships are best left by the wayside or they just bog you down. It’s a harsh truth but it can save you a mountain of frustration, irritability and feeling like popping a bottle of expensive champagne only for it to let out a sad, wheezing pssst instead of a loud pop.
Grey Lenses and Cotton Sarees: How We Instantly Clicked
I first crossed paths with her at the reception desk of the institute where I was doing my post-grad. The thing I remember the most about her was her winsome smile and sparkling eyes. She would wear light grey contact lenses and on special occasions, elegant cotton sarees which created a bond between us instantly.
For I too loved wearing colored lenses and cotton and khadi sarees. We would chitchat at the reception desk on slow days when she didn’t have too many people to attend to and eventually she started hitching rides home with me.
So many evenings were spent in my room talking, with endless cups of tea and savory snacks as the hours slipped away like steam rising from our mugs. Her home was only a few minutes away and my driver would usually drop her off after a few hours when it was time for my studies.
The fractured architecture of her family life was gradually revealed to me during those comforting serene evenings. I found out that her father was incredibly abusive, she had lost her mom when she was just a teenager, and her grandparents who used to be her absolute anchors had passed away too.
To top it off, her relationship with her stepmother was a volatile one. But what blew me away was that she didn’t look for a single ounce of pity. When she bared her soul to me, she spoke in this incredibly calm, steady voice, as if she had already cried all her tears out years before I ever met her. 
Instead of just feeling sorry for her, I was completely in awe of how she had taken life by the reins and steered herself right through the wreckage. I learnt all about how she was grinding at a low-paying job just to fund her master’s degree at a top-tier university.
To me, she felt like a powerhouse character straight out of a coming-of-age feminist novel. Sitting in my comfortable world, I honestly couldn’t fathom the sheer stamina it took to survive a full day at the office and then hit the books at night.
Back then, she was the one struggling and I was the pampered daughter of a wealthy businessman sailing through life wearing rose-tinted glasses. Nothing was too good for me and I never had to worry about a damn thing around me. I was already a divorcee though and had faced troubles of a very different kind already. But money was never a concern for me.
Two Ends of the Spectrum: When Opposites Attract in Friendship
And so we bonded like two sisters from two ends of the spectrum, both of us awestruck and sympathetic towards each other in equal parts – a recipe that made us inseparable almost immediately.
In the later years, her luck turned and she married well. She went on to have everything that she had never even dared to dream about. Now settled in a vibrant southern tech hub, she has it all: a husband, kids, a steady career, and a beautiful home.
I got married a second time too, but stability kept vanishing the moment I reached for it. Sometimes all the love between a couple can’t make up for the fault in their stars and a spate of life-altering bad decisions. And so, that was that.
Yet, through everything, we never drifted. We still shared hours-long phone calls and met up every single time she was back in town. We were as tight as ever.
The Humblebrag Shift: When a Friend Becomes an Energy Vampire
But then I started realizing that the more we spoke, the worse I felt about myself. If there was ever a Nobel prize for bragging, she would have won hands down.
Without ever really being critical of my situation, she would launch into lengthy discourses on how much money her husband was making, how lavishly they spent, how grand their house was and how expensive their kids’ schooling was. These catalogs of wealth were always introduced immediately after I had disclosed my own anxieties about my life. 
The realization hit hard. The friend who used to be my anchor now felt like a sadist, using backhanded sympathy just to boost her own ego.
It took me a while to realize this connection was completely empty. In fact, after every conversation, I would seethe with resentment at how I was being played.
It also quickly became clear that with every chat, her claims were getting more ridiculous and the stories completely unhinged. At one point I realized that in one year, she had boasted that she had received three consecutive 20% salary hikes- all in a year! It was a mathematical absurdity, but she said it without batting an eyelid.
I didn’t know then if this was some kind of madness, deep-set insecurity, or glee at how the tables had turned- but it was time to let this kind of a friendship go. Because when you can throw out milk that’s curdled in the fridge, why can’t you do the same thing with friendships that have turned sour?
The Art of the Quiet Fade-Out (Without the Drama)
Like quiet-quitting at work, there’s a way to go about this as well. To let them go, you do not need a grand, explosive confrontation; you do not need to tear the house down. You simply stop feeding the fire. You quietly reclaim your silence, drawing a gentle, invisible border around your heart, understanding that choosing your own survival is not an act of betrayal, but the beginning of peace. 
Which is what I have done. I have reclaimed my peace of mind by phasing out this friendship. Lesser calls, no more meetups, no more unprompted life updates….just a clean, quiet withdrawal from a bond that had run its course.
Do I still talk to her? Yes. But only after I let some of her calls go unanswered. When it comes to her, I am always busy. My time is precious to me and I don’t wish to waste it on someone who was my soul sister once upon a time. Situations change. People change. Intentions change. Let go of deadweight.
Finding Your “Real Deal” Tribe in Your 40s
I have finally realized that holding onto people who drain you just because you have ‘history’ is a terrible investment strategy for your mental health. Yes, making new friends in your forties feels like trying to find a needle in a haystack, but staying in a friendship that feels like an emotional boxing match is worse.
You don’t need a massive squad anymore; you just need a few solid humans who don’t make you feel exhausted after a simple cup of tea.
Today, I have a tight handful of friends who are the absolute real deal. We talk our hearts out over idli and coffee, trade life advice, and reminisce about our wildly questionable choices from a decade ago. We send each other ridiculously long voice notes when life gets messy, watch movies together, and share playlists.
There is no performance, no subtle competing, and zero need to mask our struggles. Surrounding myself with people who effortlessly double as my loudest cheerleaders and my safest landing pads has changed everything, making this next chapter of life feel fiercely grounded.
A content writer and lifelong book nerd rewriting the rules of her 40s, because in a world that expects women to have it all figured out, the real power belongs to those of us brave enough to tell the truth.