Losing a Friendship over Boundaries
I had a friend who was incredibly supportive and became one of my closest friends.
One of the things I valued most about our friendship was that we could simply spend time together without needing to talk. We could each do our own thing in comfortable silence. They were calm, stable, and felt very safe to be around, which meant a great deal to me because my nervous system has felt constantly activated since experiencing recent trauma.
A few months into the friendship, they told me they had developed feelings for me. That was not a problem in itself. I explained that I was not interested in pursuing a relationship with anyone at the time, but that I was happy to continue the friendship as long as we handled the situation maturely. For a while, that seemed to work.
Over time, however, the dynamic began to change.
They started checking in with me every day, sending me daily riddles, and wanting to spend a lot more time together. None of these things were inherently bad, and I genuinely enjoyed many of our interactions. However, I become socially exhausted quite easily, and the increased level of contact was more than I could sustain. Because I cared deeply about the friendship, I continued to invest my energy and tried to reciprocate.
In hindsight, I probably should have spoken up sooner.
At first, although the dynamic felt intense, it was still manageable. Then life became overwhelming. For about a month, it felt each week piled more and more on, conflict with friends, helping struggling friends, increased pressure at work, health concerns, and even people close to me being involved in car accidents.
Eventually, I no longer had the emotional capacity to keep up. I began to withdraw and asked for some space. I set boundaries to protect my own wellbeing. They seemed hurt, but said they understood.
Unfortunately, this led to a painful cycle.
Whenever I regained a little energy and attempted to reconnect, I was met with a large amount of attention and requests to spend time together. Feeling overwhelmed, I would retreat again, and each time I sensed disappointment from them.
During this period, they also appeared to be going through a very difficult time themselves. I believe some of their distress may have been related to our changing dynamic, but it was clear they were dealing with significant struggles of their own. I think they were seeking time with friends to regualte. I did my best to support them, checking in with them, trying to keep their weeks as consistent as possible with maintaining commitments within friend groups (they are autistic, I thought maybe promoting routine events as much as possible would help), but I had very little energy left even to care for myself.
Eventually, I had to set firmer boundaries. I explained that I did not have the capacity for the daily riddles or regular gaming sessions for a while.
They continued to push against those boundaries. I restated them several times, but the requests continued, and they began monitoring where I was and what I was doing rather than giving me the space I had asked for.
In the end, I told them clearly and directly that they needed to step back, and that I did not want to have to repeat myself.
They have not spoken to me since. They left me on read, and it has been radio silent.
Now I find myself grieving the loss of the friendship and feeling completely burnt out. Over the last four days, I have slept for nearly eighteen hours, taken time off work and still feel utterly drained. To make matters worse, I worry that our mutual friends may have taken their side, and that I may have lost those relationships as well. They have become completely silent and withdrawn from me.
I never shouted or became angry. I do not believe I was cruel. I said: "I've been as clear as I can with my boundaries, and asked you to respect them in a conversation earlier this week. We are still friends, but this is stressing me the hell out, and I'm not asking you again."
Perhaps I was more blunt than I intended. I have been told that I can sometimes sound direct when I am overwhelmed. If that happened, it was not meant to be hurtful, I just wanted to be firm.
Since then, I have withdrawn completely, and none of that friend group has reached out. Part of me hopes they are simply respecting my need for space because they know how overwhelmed I have been.
But another part of me fears that something has been said about me that is untrue, and that people I care about have chosen to distance themselves from me.
It hurts.
I have experienced abuse in the past, and having my boundaries pushed, followed by what feels like punishment for enforcing them, touches a very painful wound. More than anything, I feel exhausted, heartbroken, and, in some ways, betrayed.
I hope I'm wrong about things, and that things can be repaired.