Jessica and I met in 2017 at a mutual acquaintance’s party and hit it off instantly. She was spontaneous, loud and outgoing, while I was more quiet, but we had so many things in common, from our love of the outdoors to yoga. There was never a dull moment, always some adventure to be had or story to be made.
Though, there were moments where she pushed things just a bit too far.
In 2017, she dragged me to a bar knowing that her ex would be there. It wasn’t my idea of fun, especially when I got stuck making small talk with his best friend. ‘Do you fancy him?’ she’d asked when he went to get another round in. ‘No!’ I’d replied sternly. But that didn’t stop her giving him my number anyway. It annoyed me but not enough to cause a fuss.
Despite having only known each other for three months, we soon set off on an all-inclusive holiday to Greece to get the last of the summer sun. However, our holiday wasn’t exactly the girls’ trip I’d imagined.
One night, she left me in the middle of dinner to call her new boyfriend. I waited hours for her to come back, but she never did. Eventually, I found her at a bar on the strip, oblivious to the situation and the panicked search I’d been on for her. She never apologized, and we never discussed it again.
In the two years that followed, we seemed to never be apart. We spent most weekends together watching films or going to yoga classes, and we always went big for birthdays and Christmas. There were bumps and tiffs along the way – usually about her lack of honesty with her partner and the expensive restaurants she would pick despite knowing they were well out of my price range – but we stuck together through it all.
That all changed once I got engaged though. Jessica openly admitted she was jealous as she’d been with her partner longer. She even ended up giving her boyfriend an ultimatum: propose by the end of the year or it was over. By that November, she was engaged, too.
You’d think two best friends being engaged together would be fun – lots of dress shopping and planning together – but it was more akin to Bride Wars. She copied everything from the style and color of my bridesmaid dresses down to the flower arrangements, and on the wedding day itself, she tried to take over everything. It was embarrassing, but not wanting to let it derail my day, I kept quiet.
I figured she’d soon understand when her wedding rolled around. But when Jessica’s wedding (which was scheduled for later in 2020) got pushed back due to Covid restrictions, it somehow became my fault. She constantly complained about how unfair it was that my husband and I got married in ‘normal circumstances.’ I actually felt guilty, so I tried to help her as much as possible.
And when weddings were scaled down to single figures, I gave up my place so that her Mom could attend.
Six months on, I confided in her that I’d had a chemical pregnancy (a very early miscarriage that happens within the first five weeks). I expected her to be supportive and grieve with me. Instead, she repeatedly said it ‘didn’t really count as a baby that early on’ and that I should just ‘get over it.’ Her words and indifference hurt.
But what hurt more was, just a month later, Jessica came over to my house uninvited to announce that she was pregnant. I tried to be as supportive as possible and was genuinely happy for her, but still desperately sad, too.
She later told me my reaction wasn’t good enough as after congratulating her, I talked about ‘my s**t’ – aka losing our baby.
At that point, I attempted to put healthy boundaries in place, saying that I didn’t think we were the best people to support each other at that time. She didn’t like that and guilt-tripped me into sending daily texts and constant calls.
Throughout her pregnancy, I continually put her first. I’d ask about the baby while grieving for my own and listen as she went into graphic detail about each ultrasound. I don’t think she ever realized just how much that all hurt. Or perhaps she just didn’t care.
I’ll never be sure though because she soon became distant and stopped replying to me. Strangely, I felt relieved. I was less on edge. And yet I still missed her terribly.
That’s why I sent her flowers, to let her know I was thinking of her even if she needed a timeout. The last thing I expected was for her to admit to ghosting me.
Her messages honed in on my weak spots, accused me of being selfish, too focused on my marriage, and completely unsupportive. After everything I had put up with from her – abandoning me in Greece, her frankly rude behavior at my wedding, and the dismissive way she had handled my loss – I couldn’t believe she had the audacity to label me a bad friend.
I replied to her straight away and did three things. Firstly, I congratulated Jessica about the pregnancy again. I then apologized for upsetting her but also reiterated that the pain she had caused my husband and I was unacceptable. I ended my text by thanking her for our time together and gave her 24 hours to respond. I truly hoped she’d reply and that somehow we could move past this, but she never did.
And that was that. My friendship with Jessica was done.
For a long time afterward, I was totally devastated. My confidence was destroyed because even though I knew the accusations were uncalled for, I struggled to forget them. It even put me off making new friends to avoid getting hurt again.
When I found out I was pregnant with my beautiful son, my initial instinct was to text her. I had to actively remind myself that that chapter was now closed.
Eventually, I made new friends, and their supportive nature made me realize just how awful my friendship with Jessica had been. With hindsight, I can see it was a very toxic relationship, and I’m actually glad that she’s no longer in my life. People come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. Jessica was only in mine for a short act, and that is something I am more than okay with.
