My best friend’s getting married, and I was her maid of honor. I spent weeks planning her bachelorette weekend—booked the cottage, yoga, wine tasting, everything.
Then she mocked me in a group chat, calling my plans “ugly.” I stayed quiet, showed up anyway, and made it all work. When she got food poisoning, I held everything together. Suddenly, everyone liked me again—until she read a text saying I’d “sabotaged” the trip.
I left that night.
Later, I found out she’d been lying about me for years—even telling her fiancé I’d tried to kiss him. He eventually left her.
Months later, she wrote, saying she was in therapy, owning what she’d done. I just replied, “I’m glad you’re getting help.”
Because healing doesn’t always mean going back—it means letting go.
If you’ve ever lost a friend like that, you’re not crazy. You’re just finally free.
