Dear Diary,
Trauma bonding is real. But so is the connection that develops when two people have survived similar experiences.
And sometimes, knowing when to walk away from someone you’ve bonded with through those experiences can be difficult.
Or so I thought.
Recently, I made the decision to end a friendship with someone I’ve known since middle school. Someone who has been part of my life for decades. Someone who understood parts of my story that most people never could.
And if I’m being completely honest, I knew long before making that decision that we had outgrown our friendship.
I just wasn’t ready to admit it.
Because how do you walk away from someone who understands the things you rarely have to explain?
Someone who knows what it’s like to grow up in a dysfunctional family. Someone who understands the emotional baggage, complicated family relationships, and childhood experiences that shaped who you became.
And then there’s Crohn’s Disease.
Having a friend who also lives with Crohn’s creates an entirely different connection. You don’t have to explain the fatigue, unpredictable symptoms, or why your intestines occasionally decide to hold you hostage.
They just get it.
But I’ve learned something important.
Just because someone understands where you’ve been doesn’t mean they’re meant to accompany you where you’re going.
🌻 When Shared Pain Becomes the Foundation
For years, I think I confused our shared experiences with compatibility.
We understood each other’s trauma. We could relate to each other’s struggles. We had decades of memories and history.
And there’s something comforting about having someone in your life who remembers the person you were before adulthood, responsibilities, and life’s unexpected challenges changed you.
But what happens when the things that brought you together are no longer enough to keep you connected?
What happens when you realize that outside of your shared experiences, you may no longer have much in common?
Or when the friendship no longer provides the mutual respect, consideration, honesty, and effort that meaningful relationships require?
That’s when you have to ask yourself:
Am I holding on to this friendship because of who we are to each other today, or because of who we were to each other years ago?
For me, the answer became increasingly clear.
💜 When the Effort Becomes One-Sided
There wasn’t one dramatic argument or single incident that ended this friendship.
It was a series of situations that gradually made me realize the bond I thought we shared might not exist in the same way anymore.
Whenever I planned a trip back to the DMV, I would let him know I was coming.
We’d discuss getting together. Promises would be made. Plans would be talked about.
And then?
Poof! Disappearing act. 🎩😂
No follow-through. No explanation.
Just silence.
Now, I’m not someone who expects people to rearrange their entire lives because I’ve decided to come to town. People have responsibilities, obligations, and their own schedules.
I understand that.
But repeatedly promising to get together and then disappearing?
That’s different.
And apparently, the disappearing act wasn’t limited to my visits to the DMV.
On three occasions that I’m aware of, he’s been in the Los Angeles area.
Two of those visits happened within the past month.
Did I hear about those visits from him?
Nope.
I found out through social media.
Now, let me be clear. Nobody is obligated to visit me simply because they’re in California. I’m not the California Welcome Center, and I’m certainly not handing out complimentary refreshments to everyone who crosses the state line. 😂
But when you’ve known someone for decades, discovering they’re repeatedly in your area without so much as a conversation makes you question where you actually stand.
And when I finally questioned it, the explanations were even more disappointing.
During the most recent visit, I was told he thought I lived in San Francisco.
San Francisco?
Sir.
Three months ago, we were literally discussing how close I live to Camp Pendleton.
Now, I don’t expect anyone to memorize my ZIP code, but California is a pretty big state. Los Angeles and San Francisco are not exactly around the corner from each other.
And Google Maps is free. 😂
At some point, the excuses become more insulting than the behavior itself.
Because the issue was never that he came to California and didn’t see me.
It was the repeated promises, the lack of follow-through, and explanations that didn’t align with conversations we’d already had.
I wasn’t asking to be a priority every time he traveled. I was asking for the basic consideration, honesty, and reciprocity I believed existed in our friendship.
And eventually, I had to acknowledge that perhaps we weren’t placing the same value on the relationship anymore.
🌻 History Doesn’t Equal Reciprocity
One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned is that the length of a friendship doesn’t automatically determine its quality.
You can know someone for five years and have a relationship built on genuine love, support, honesty, and mutual respect.
And you can know someone for thirty or forty years and eventually realize the only thing holding the relationship together is history.
History is meaningful.
But history cannot carry a friendship by itself.
Friendship requires effort from both people.
It requires showing up, keeping your word, communicating honestly, and making each other feel valued.
Not necessarily every day.
Not even every month.
But consistently enough that neither person is left questioning whether the friendship still matters.
And when you find yourself repeatedly making excuses for someone’s lack of effort, you eventually have to ask why you’re working so hard to preserve something that should be mutual.
A friendship shouldn’t require one person to constantly prove that it’s worth maintaining.
💜 Shared Trauma Doesn’t Create a Lifetime Obligation
I think this is where things become complicated.
When you’ve bonded with someone through difficult childhood experiences, family dysfunction, illness, or other personal struggles, that connection can feel almost impossible to replace.
They know things about you that other people don’t.
They understand experiences that might take hours to explain to someone else.
And because of that, you sometimes convince yourself that the relationship deserves to be preserved at all costs.
But shared trauma and trauma bonding aren’t necessarily the same thing.
Trauma bonding, in its psychological sense, generally describes an attachment that develops through cycles of mistreatment and reinforcement.
What I’m describing is a friendship rooted partly in shared traumatic experiences.
And that distinction matters.
Because two people can genuinely connect through their pain without that connection remaining healthy or fulfilling forever.
Shared pain may explain why a friendship began, but it shouldn’t be the only reason it continues.
I’ve reached a point in my life where I want my relationships to reflect who I am today, not just who I was when those relationships began.
I want friendships that celebrate growth instead of relying solely on memories.
Friendships where consideration is mutual.
Where honesty isn’t optional.
Where effort isn’t one-sided.
And where I don’t have to question whether I matter.
🌻 Outgrowing Someone Doesn’t Erase the History
Here’s something I want to make clear.
I don’t regret the friendship.
I don’t regret the years, the memories, the conversations, or the experiences that connected us.
There was a time when this friendship served a meaningful purpose in my life.
The laughter was real.
The shared struggles were real.
The understanding was real.
And I can appreciate all of that without pretending the relationship still serves the same purpose today.
People change.
Circumstances change.
Priorities change.
And sometimes, relationships don’t evolve at the same pace as the people in them.
That doesn’t necessarily make either person a villain.
It simply means the relationship has changed.
But I’ve also learned that recognizing a friendship has changed and accepting that change are two very different things.
For a long time, I recognized it.
I just hadn’t accepted it.
Until now.
💭 Sometimes Letting Go Isn’t as Hard as You Expected
Here’s the part that surprised me.
I thought ending this friendship would be harder.
After all, how do you walk away from someone who has known you since middle school?
Someone who understands your family history, your health struggles, and so many chapters of your life?
Someone who has witnessed versions of you that no longer exist?
But when you’ve been emotionally preparing yourself to let go for longer than you care to admit, the final decision can feel less like heartbreak and more like acceptance.
I didn’t wake up one morning and suddenly decide the friendship was over.
The realization had been building for a while.
Each broken promise.
Each disappearing act.
Each questionable explanation.
Each moment that made me wonder whether the friendship I valued was still the friendship that existed.
And eventually, I stopped questioning the individual situations and started recognizing the pattern.
That’s when something shifted.
I realized I wasn’t angry about one missed visit.
I was disappointed by what the repeated behavior represented to me.
And I was tired of making excuses for a friendship I already knew had changed.
So when I finally made the decision to let go, I felt something I hadn’t expected.
Peace.
Not because the friendship never mattered.
But because I finally stopped trying to preserve something simply because it had existed for so long.
🌻 Not Everyone Is Meant to Go Into Your Next Chapter
I’ve spent enough years navigating complicated relationships, difficult experiences, and unexpected life lessons to understand that peace is valuable.
Very valuable.
And at this stage of my life, I’m becoming increasingly selective about what and whom I allow to disturb it.
That doesn’t mean I expect perfection from people.
Lord knows I’m not perfect myself.
I can be stubborn. I can be outspoken. And depending on the day, my patience may be operating on a very limited supply. 😂
But I believe in showing up for the people I care about.
I believe in honesty.
I believe in accountability.
And I believe that meaningful relationships require effort from both sides.
I also believe that sometimes the healthiest thing you can do is stop trying to force a connection that no longer feels natural.
Some people are part of your survival story.
Others become part of your growth story.
And occasionally, the people who helped you survive one chapter aren’t the people who belong in the next.
That doesn’t make the past meaningless.
It simply means the future looks different.
Knowing someone for decades doesn’t mean you owe them the next decade of your life.
And sometimes, accepting that truth is the growth.
🎵 Music Playing…
“I Am Changing” — Jennifer Hudson
Because sometimes growth means recognizing that the person you’re becoming can no longer fit comfortably into relationships you’ve outgrown.
And sometimes the change isn’t about becoming someone new.
It’s about finally honoring the person you’ve worked so hard to become.
💭 Reflection Corner
Have you ever held on to a friendship because of your shared history, even after realizing the connection had changed?
Have you ever found yourself making excuses for someone’s behavior because you remembered who they used to be in your life?
And when you finally decided to let go, was it as difficult as you expected?
Or did you discover that you’d already made peace with the decision long before you walked away?
I’d love to hear your thoughts, because I believe friendship breakups deserve just as much conversation as romantic ones.
Sometimes the hardest part isn’t losing the friendship.
It’s accepting that the friendship you remember is no longer the friendship you have.
And sometimes choosing yourself doesn’t require an argument, a dramatic confrontation, or one final attempt to make someone understand your worth.
Sometimes it simply requires accepting what you’ve known for a while.
Shared history is meaningful. But shared history alone is not enough.
Until next time, remember that growth sometimes requires letting go of people, places, and relationships that no longer align with the life you’re building.
You can appreciate the role someone played in your past without giving them permanent access to your future.
And you can wish someone well without continuing the journey together.
Because sometimes letting go isn’t about forgetting what a friendship meant. It’s about accepting what it has become. 💜🌻
With love, laughter, and a little more wisdom,
Kia Lorice
Founder • Author • Advocate • Future Wellness Coach
The Dual Diagnosis Diaries | Kia’s Journey
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