Women in Midlife are Rethinking Who Belongs in Their Inner Circle and Who Needs to Go

I recently asked a loaded question on Facebook: When was the last time you let a friend go? My inbox flooded with stories—some heartbreaking, some liberating. These stories struck a nerve. A few months ago I was flat on my back in a hospital bed after an excruciatingly complex surgery when I realized that one of my closest friends wasn’t going to show up for me.

I had left countless messages in the weeks leading up to my operation but I hadn’t heard from her, and she had no idea that I had just been gutted open like a fish. And then she texted me a random, unrelated question.

When Crisis Reveals Who Your Real Friends Are

When I explained I was in the hospital, she pushed me to spill the gory details, but I was too sick and traumatized to rehash the experience. What I needed was for her to ask how she could show up for me and my family. Instead, she continued to press me, make assumptions, offer unsolicited advice, and even began texting me medical horror stories. I put my phone on Do Not Disturb and waited for the painkillers to kick in.

As I went through one of the most harrowing experiences of my life, I found out who was going to show up for me when it really counted, who was an energy vampire just wanting to suck up the gossip like a Hoover, and who ghosted, only to reappear months later.

It made me wonder, “Why do we prioritize the people who no longer serve us?”

Why We Stay Too Long In Friendships That Hurt

The topic is exploding on social media with expert friendship influencers like Danielle Baynard Jackson and Marisa G. Franco providing much-needed advice. I’ve been glued to the conversation as I reassess who deserves to be along for the wild ride in this amazing middle phase of my life.

To help me understand why I, and so many other women, hang onto toxic relationships, I reached out to friendship therapist, Barbie Atkinson, LPC, founder of Catalyst Counseling in Houston, Texas. (Yes, friendship therapy is a thing, and it’s not as woo as you think.) “We romanticize the idea of best friends to the point where it can be detrimental,” said Atkinson, meaning we put up with a lot of bullshit, and it’s really bad for our mental health.

One of the reasons we stay in relationships long past their expiration date is because we’re clinging to the highlight reel, those early memories when things felt good, easy, and reciprocal. We replay them as proof that the real friendship still means something. But dancing on a bar at 2 a.m. in some seedy nightclub when you’re 20 doesn’t translate to showing up when shit gets real in midlife. Nostalgia is a hell of a drug that can cloud our judgment and make us excuse patterns that no longer serve us.

Sometimes the real reason we hold on is even more uncomfortable to admit: shame. Shame that maybe we outgrew someone. Shame that our self-esteem is so low we secretly feel that we don’t deserve to have friends that show up consistently. Shame that the friendship fell apart.

Admitting a friendship failure means admitting we failed. Instead we ghost each other, sometimes slowly, or we stay and simmer and call it loyalty. But pretending something still works just because it once did? That’s not friendship. That’s inertia.

Real Friendship Shouldn’t Be This Exhausting

After my surgery, many friends sent socks, books, and pajamas. Some dropped off soup and sat with me. Others sent short, meaningful texts to make sure I was still breathing and not sliding off an emotional cliff. Some disappeared, and that hurt.

Lying in bed with nowhere to go, I scrolled through Instagram and found Franco’s Insta Reel about what it means to have a secure, real friendship. It was just the revelation I needed. She helped me understand that we have the right to set basic expectations in any relationship. One of those expectations is to show up consistently. So I began to reassess these relationships. I realized that the people who hadn’t reached out to help hadn’t actually been good friends for years.

“Toxic friendships can be subtle,” said Atkinson. “It’s not one interaction or one bad day, it’s a pattern of dismissal, disregard, judgement, and criticism.” I couldn’t pinpoint when or how these friendships turned to the dark side, but I could acknowledge I had a role in it, too.

Priorities—and People—Change

My priorities used to be about finding friends to hang with, have fun, and bitch about marriage and motherhood. If you have a toddler and/or a spouse, chances are you can find common ground. Now, in midlife, things were starting to get real with unexpected tragedies, crises, and life changes piling up like a multi-vehicle collision on I-95.

I needed to surround myself with the people who would be present for the hard stuff, and I wanted them to know I’d be there for them too—anytime, anywhere, anyplace—no matter what I was going through.

Atkinson suggested doing a pulse check on your friendship. Do you feel anxious, drained, guilty, shamed, judged, or just bad about yourself after spending time with them? Newsflash! Friends aren’t supposed to make you feel that way.

Of course, real friendship isn’t one-sided, and that means you need to do the hard work, too. “Before you can complain about not having good friends, ask yourself, are you a good friend? Are you offering the same level of support and understanding that you expect to receive?” asked Atkinson.

When to Say: This No Longer Works for Me

Are you ready to walk away?

Atkinson suggested telling your friend how you feel before you make the decision. “You have to be able to communicate your needs, and they have to be able to hold space for those needs. Adult relationships require true intentional and mindful effort.” If they don’t want to put in the work, they’re not worth your time.

If your friend isn’t coming around, Atkinson said it’s perfectly acceptable to say to yourself, “No, this just doesn’t suit me. I need to be around people that are potent, helpful, and uplifting.” She also suggested framing walking away as being kind to your future self. Do the hard thing now, so that in the future you can have peace and joy.

Mourn the Loss—Allow Yourself to Ugly Cry

Losing a friendship can feel like mourning a death, and the guilt and sense of failure can be overwhelming. Atkinson recommends these six steps to help you through the process:

Let Yourself Grieve: It’s okay to feel sad, angry, or confused. Acknowledge your emotions and allow yourself time to process them.

Focus on Your Well-being: Engage in activities that bring you joy and help you relax. This could be anything from exercise to spending time in nature to pursuing a hobby.

Strengthen Existing Healthy Relationships: Invest time and energy in the friendships that nourish you.

Seek New Connections: Join a club, take a class, volunteer, or use online platforms to meet new people who share your interests. Be open to new friendships. Or concentrate on the current ones and nurture and tend to those.

Learn From the Experience: Reflect on what you learned from the toxic friendship. What red flags did you miss? What qualities do you value in a friend? This will help you make better choices in the future.

Consider Therapy: If you’re struggling to cope with the end of the friendship, consider seeking professional help. A therapist can provide support and guidance as you navigate this transition.

Your Core Circle Matters More Than Ever

 Going through an intense surgery helped me understand why it’s important to surround myself with the right people during midlife. I may have less friends now, but I’m more focused on nurturing those friendships. As Atkinson eloquently put it, “You’re auditioning people your whole life, right until you get to the core ensemble and you think, okay, these are my people.”

It can take a lifetime to find your ride or die crew but it’s worth it. “As we get older, if your friendship circle is curated correctly, it can be the sun. It can be your life source,” Atkinson continued. And when you’re going through a tough time—and even when you’re not—you deserve to have friends who shine their light on you.