u/QuietBamboo123

I'm struggling to process the end of a 20+ year friendship, and I'd really appreciate some outside perspectives.

I had a friend whom I genuinely cared about, but over the years our friendship became emotionally exhausting. She would call me almost every day, and our conversations often lasted two to four hours. Nearly every conversation revolved around a new crisis in her life—family drama, work conflicts, problems with her ex-husband, or conflicts with other people. She often told me I was her best friend and that I was the only person who truly understood her, so I spent years listening, comforting her, and giving advice.

When I became a mother, things changed. My pregnancy and postpartum period were difficult, and I had health complications that lasted for about eight months after my daughter was born. My daughter also had developmental delays and spent years attending appointments with psychologists, physiotherapists, and occupational therapists before things finally improved. During those years, my own career was completely on hold because I was focused on my health and my daughter.

My friend also hadn't progressed professionally for about eight years. She blamed most of her problems on unfair bosses, coworkers, family members, and other people. While I do believe some people treated her unfairly, I also felt she had difficulty accepting responsibility for her own mistakes. At one point she even ended up in conflict with her own psychologist, and I found myself agreeing with some of the psychologist's advice rather than with my friend.

At the same time, couples therapy helped me realize I needed healthier boundaries. I stopped spending hours analyzing every detail of her problems, and I stopped letting her anxiety affect my own life. For example, after my daughter was born, my friend constantly warned me that my baby could catch all kinds of illnesses if I wasn't extremely careful. My husband and I are fairly relaxed people, and I realized her constant warnings were making me unnecessarily anxious.

One day she told me she had interviewed for a prestigious organization connected to my religion. She isn't a member of my religion, and she actually thought the interview was strange, although I understood why it was conducted that way because of the organization's values.

She told me that if she ever worked there, she would introduce me to her future manager and help open doors for me professionally. I asked whether she actually intended to accept a job there. She said it would only be her last option and that she preferred many other places.

Since my daughter was finally doing much better and I was ready to restart my career, I asked if she could introduce me to that manager now instead of waiting. I explained that, since we shared the same religious values, I'd genuinely be interested in working there. She immediately agreed and said she'd send me the contact information later.

That evening she stayed at my house. Once again, we spent hours discussing her personal problems. It was already late at night, and I was exhausted because my daughter would wake up early the next morning. Eventually I suggested, "Let's ask ChatGPT what it thinks," partly because I wanted to end the evening on a lighter note instead of continuing to analyze the same problems. While opening my laptop, she noticed that I kept a private journal on my computer.

A few days later, I traveled with my family. While I was away, I reminded her about the introduction to that manager.

Instead of sending it, she suddenly texted me saying she no longer wanted to be friends because I had only stayed friends with her to use her professional contacts.

I was shocked. In more than twenty years of friendship, I had never asked her for professional favors before. In fact, I had helped her several times over the years, including trying to connect her with people who could help solve a legal issue she once had.

I told her I respected her decision if she no longer wanted to be friends, but that I didn't understand her accusations.

She became even angrier and said she "knew what I really thought about her."

Then she sent me photographs of pages from my private journal.

While staying at my house, she had secretly opened my laptop during the night, bypassed my password, read my journal, taken pictures of it, and used what she found against me.

In my journal I had written things like:

• that I thought she was deeply insecure;
• that I often disagreed with her but avoided saying so because I feared it would create more drama;
• that I agreed with some of her psychologist's observations;
• and that I felt emotionally drained by our friendship.

I never intended anyone to read those thoughts. I've kept journals my entire life because writing helps me organize my thoughts, especially since I have ADHD. Looking back at old journals also helps me see how I've grown over the years. I don't see a journal as a final judgment about someone—it's simply a place where I process difficult emotions honestly.

Now I'm left wondering whether I was actually a terrible friend for writing those things, or whether reading someone's private journal without permission crossed a much bigger line.

Was I wrong for writing honestly about my friend in my private journal? And how do you move on after losing someone you considered your best friend for over 20 years?