One of the most difficult issues I've had to face in midlife is letting go of an old friend. I've invested considerable time and energy in my men friends over the years, and our support for each other has never wavered. We've been there for each other through my devastation of losing a son and their worst times as well. Friendships are forever, right? Apparently not.
Because I don't take losing a friend casually, I struggled for a few years before finally feeling I had to let Jason go. I was aware that husbands and wives move apart, typically when one outgrows the other emotionally, but I hadn't considered that friends sometimes outgrow each other, too.
Jason and I met in college and had known each other for four decades. Although we'd lived on opposite sides of the country for most of that time and didn't see each other much, we frequently talked on the phone.
When I started my men's group 20 years ago, Jason dismissed it out-of-hand, insisting that men can't change, especially without the help of a therapist. He was skeptical and unsupportive when I began facing my issues, anger and the inability to sustain intimate relationships. As I worked through my issues with women, he seemed disappointed. He'd always enjoyed my stories about the long line of women and failed relationships I left behind; and it felt like he wanted that screwed-up guy back. The more emotional baggage I shed and the healthier and happier I became, the more he distanced himself. Frankly, I couldn't understand why he wasn't pleased for me. I'd cheered all his successes, but Jason clearly wasn't cheering mine.
The last time I mentioned my inner work, Jason's comment said everything about how he viewed change and growth. "You're always reinventing yourself, but I'm still the same guy I've been for 40 years." While I'd been facing down my demons and continue to free myself from them, he still hadn't opened his Pandora's box of issues, and was furiously hammering nails into it to keep it closed.
And no wonder. Jason had major issues. He'd been too terrified to get on a plane for decades, was a hypochondriac, controlled his adult children, was generally miserable, and seemed more afraid of living than dying.
As my friendships with other men deepened, he insisted he didn't need friends. When I asked him who he talked with regularly about his life, he flippantly replied, "A couple of guys I know on Wall Street." Pressed to name guys other than business relationships, he said nastily, "No one. I don't need anyone and I'm bored listening to you talk about how important friends are." As his only long-time friend, all I could say was, "Ouch!"
I wanted to hang in with Jason and urged him to consider working toward changing his life. I was living proof that men can change -- an angry man who learned to control his rage, a loner who found the courage to trust other men, a relationship failure who finally discovered how to open his heart to a woman. But Jason dismissed all that. His refusal to change wasn't being steady; it was being stubborn -- especially since his life wasn't working.
The last time I talked with him was when, after 25 years of not being able to commit to a woman, I was getting married. In response, he yelled at me, insisting that I was making a mistake -- even though he'd never met my fiancé -- and that I should live with her instead of marrying her. He treated me like a teenage boy and became so obnoxious and ungracious about one of the happiest events in my life, that I felt compelled to say good-bye. A friend doesn't rain on a friend's parade, ever.
All Jason had to offer me was unsolicited advice -- no support, no joy. He was stuck in a time warp, wanting to keep me where I was because my growth made him uncomfortable. Not supporting a friend's growth is the worst insult you can hurl at him -- and it marked the end of our friendship.
Still, leaving him behind hurt because we shared a lot of history. Letting go is painful. But sometimes friends outgrow each other, and sometimes there's no alternative.
I am careful now to choose my friends with more consideration.
NOT true! A real friend and a good friend is honest with you, even when the honest hurts! If I had only listened to the friends who I felt rained on my parade, I wouldn't have ended up going through a horrible divorce. Maybe the guy is right, but keep in mind this is only one side of the story. The former friend might have a version that paints a whole other picture. I have a friend who met a girl and lots of us watched him change....but not for the better. We saw our friend giving up his dreams and making himself into who she wanted him to be. He changed his career, clothing style and even most of his friends to please her. He wasn't living his life, but the one she planned out for her ideal man. He too ended up divorced a few years later and probably wished he'd listened to some of those friends raining on his parade. Good friends do not sit back and encourage and cheer you on if they think you are going down a wrong path...maybe they are wrong, but you could be wrong too. I am glad I have friends who have my back and might rain on my parade and care enough to just not always be happy for me and say nothing.
Raining on someones parade is down grading their accomplishments. Being honest can actually help someone and knowing the difference is important.
For instance if you graduate college with high honors and your friend makes it sound like it is no big deal. They are raining on your parade but in reality how are they being honest?
True.
Yes we all change and evolve as we get older, but men do not usually sit and go on about it with other men unless those men happen to be open to those discusions. Reading most of the comments it appears that it is mostly women who are relating to these friendship divorces. Men do not just end old friendships over some percieved emotional slight we might not talk for years, but when you see each other or talk again you just pick up as if nothing happened.
I imagine in a few years the author will get over it and talk to his friend again, Hopefully he will still be happily married and his friend will be glad it worked out.
He sees you doing better and you try to help, but all I see is that you have given up on a friend you have known for decades because you no longer want to try. Now thats the worst kind of friend...because if I feel bad about something, especially maybe jealousy at a friend, I would expect them to be there for me, especially a friend that I thought of as a brother or such. Maybe this was just a person you knew, but had not known properly. Ask yourself again why you really gave up such a good friendship and why you chose to quit on him.