I had a close friend for a long time. And yes, I know what some people say: “Friendship between a man and a woman? Ha! Good one!” — but we really were just friends. The kind of friends who talk about everything: from Champions League matches to PMS.
We met at a time when he was hurting after a breakup. I felt sorry for his pain, for that helplessness you see in someone’s eyes when they don’t know who they are without the other person. So I stayed close, thinking that sometimes friendship is exactly the kind of balm you need.
Then he got another girlfriend, and things seemed to settle into a normal rhythm. But, inevitably, it happened again: breakup, heartbreak, the need for support. And then another relationship. And another breakup.
I listened for hours as he talked about his exes, about how much he was suffering, about how no one understood him. I tried to help him see where he went wrong, to support him, believing that a normal person makes mistakes too — it can’t be only the other person’s fault.
But after several breakups and repeated relationships, I started to notice the pattern. The same complaints, the same simmering anger. When he was in a relationship, he criticized every little thing his partner did: how she laughed, how she dressed, how she walked, how she thought. He seemed to want to control every aspect of the women in his life, to shape them down to the smallest detail.
And I, even as a friend, wasn’t spared. I began to feel his constant pressure. He analyzed my choices, judged my fears, minimized my pain. Every problem I had was dismissed, every fear ridiculed, every mistake — a reason for a moral lecture.
Then he crossed a line.
He casually told me about an incident where he had pushed his girlfriend, and she got hurt.
I won’t go into details, because there’s an ongoing investigation, but I understood clearly: I cannot continue a friendship with someone who behaves abusively toward a woman.
As a reaction, he tried to make me feel guilty. That I didn’t understand him. That I wasn’t on his side. That I had betrayed him.
But no, dear blog, I am not “the bad guy.” I’m just a woman who said STOP.
STOP normalizing abuse.
STOP blaming others.
STOP convenient friendships built on silence and complicity.
So if you have a “friend” who makes you feel guilty for having a backbone, send them this article.
Or better yet… send it silently. And keep your peace — and your spine — intact.