My friend used the term divorce to explain the end of a friendship, and I thought there has to be a better way to describe these endings, which the Adulting 101 course I never took, didn’t happen to mention.  Apparently, this is a fairly common phenomena that many adults experience as they traverse the course of their lifetime.

Divorce seems to be too strong a word.

It’s fairly common for adults to find a relationship that was once a great fit now no longer feeling even marginally comfortable. Often, we have this propensity to argue on behalf of the length of the friendship, saying things like, “but I’ve known her since I was four years old,” and “it’s just easier to stay friends after all these years.” 

I like to use this barometer — if you had never met this person and suddenly, they were your next-door neighbor, would you want them as a friend? It’s interesting to ask someone, because you can sense the disloyalty a person feels when they say, “no.” It’s as though they are rejecting this person and the history they have with them. 

Maybe we fear ending friendships that no longer serve us, because we worry, it might be a reflection on us. Could we be the reason we don’t have friendships lasting decades? Could we have some fatal flaw? 

There have been many explanations for the demise of these relationships. Maybe they were a friend of convenience-they worked in the next cubicle. Maybe they are a friend for a season-your kids went to the same school and were in the band together. It could be they were a friend for a reason-ushering you through a painful time in life. 

Does it even need to mean anything when these friendships get filed away as part of your past? What if it’s nobody’s fault, there is no one to blame? What if they are characters in chapters in the larger story of your life, each of them moving the narrative forward in some way?

I have the fondest feelings for the friends with whom I am no longer engaged. We don’t go to dinner together anymore or visit each other’s homes, but I am so happy to have known them and enjoyed their company at the time when we did see each other. For me, it’s the farthest thing from a divorce. I can’t even call it a separation. It implies an impasse over which we could not cross. 

A diverging might be a good way to describe it. They zigged, and I zagged. 

What may have worked in the past no longer serves both or one of us. 

I worked with a woman who said she goes through a “shedding” every decade where she examines each of her friendships and discards the ones she doesn’t want to bring into this new set of years. It seemed so harsh to me, and yet, I think we all do it, although maybe not so intentionally.

For years, I’ve been collecting situations that brought upon the end of a friendship. Below are some of the common themes I’ve heard:

Some friendships are too one-sided-“Enough about me, what do you think about me?” The conversation somehow always reverts back to one person. It doesn’t have to be about grandiosity. They could be talking about decorating their house or which sneakers to buy, but they find a way to make the conversation about them.

One of my friends judges these interactions by how much they know about the person’s life after meeting versus what the person knows about them. “They didn’t ask me a single question,” is said far too often. Her son is serving in a war zone now, so not asking about her family is a bit harder to forgive.

Other friendships can be off balance. One person is doing the calling, the arranging, the hosting. A friend said she decided to wait to hear from a lifelong friend to see how long it would take. After months had gone by, she decided to just call. Her friend said, “I haven’t heard from you in so long.” Who has time for that?

There are also those relationships where instead of “just helping them this rough patch,” you find the person seems to attract rough patches and you need to tap out to maintain your own sanity. 

Parenting differences is a big one nobody warns you about — all is well and good until you see them slap their child or look away when their child is clearly developing a drug problem. These situations call for walking on hot coals, and most people would rather avoid it. 

The spouse. This one is so tough-right up there with parenting differences. How do you tell a friend “I like you, but could you leave him home?”

I think attitudes about paying the check are really important too. Some people like to itemize and would really not like to split a bill when you had that appetizer and dessert. Some people think it all comes out in the wash and want to just throw their credit cards in and split it evenly. While those of us in the latter might be okay with itemizing, it seems that feeling isn’t necessarily reciprocal. 

Politics. Please, please, please don’t let a friendship end because of political differences UNLESS said politician would definitely be a visitor to your hospital bed. Make the topic off limits and impose a fine of $100 to whoever brings it up. Then it could be fun, and you could make money!

Nothing has ended more friendships for our family than racism. Who knew we’d be hearing so many racist comments? Black people knew. We were just naive. 

It’s a dealbreaker, no turning back, end of everything for us. Maybe we would give the person a chance if they attended racial equity workshops and read the books. I don’t know. Still, I find it absolutely remarkable how often it happens.

There are definitely some friendships that go out with a bang and not a whimper. For those of us who really hate drama, this is no fun at all. 

How do people who just like to keep things cordial deal with these endings? I’m asking. I really don’t know. I mean I do know what I want to say, but just because you can say something cruel doesn’t mean you should. So, for now, I let my silence speak. 

Maybe a healthy way to look at our lifetime of friendships is to think of each as a specific messenger, a guide, a partner in fun or a shoulder in grief, but it doesn’t require annual renewal. Sometimes our paths diverge, and neither is taking the wrong path, although this turn may end a relationship we once treasured.

Is it a potential goal to look with fondness on these friendships that lost their oxygen and be thankful for what was? Could we change our status from friendship to a fondship? It sounds so much better than divorce.