I ended a friendship I had since 7th grade in 2020 because my needs were not being met. And I have never regretted that decision for a single day.
Your math is correct. That is a 41-year relationship that I walked away from. And if you are sitting there thinking that sounds extreme, I understand. I thought so too, right up until the moment I said it out loud and realized I had been waiting to say it for years.
Let Me Tell You About Her
Having a friend with a big personality is genuinely fun, and it can also be genuinely hard when you are the quieter presence in the dynamic. This friend was the captain of the cheerleading squad in both middle school and high school. She went on to an Ivy League college, then a prestigious law school, and eventually to a career as a contract attorney for a major recording label and television production company. She dated celebrities, lived a glamorous life in New York and Los Angeles, and had stories that could fill three books.
Whenever we caught up by phone, I was mostly the listener. I did not mind it. Her life was interesting, and I cared about her. But over time the balance tilted so far in one direction that I stopped feeling like a friend in the relationship and started feeling like an audience.
I had been tolerating that imbalance for 41 years. I had been shrinking to fit.
The Phone Call That Changed Everything
In 2020, I was sharing some very concerning news about my daughter. My child was experiencing strong depression and social isolation during the pandemic. I was mid-sentence, talking about something that was genuinely breaking my heart, when this friend interrupted me to clarify a point she had made earlier in the conversation about her job situation.
I went silent. Not dramatically. I just stopped talking because I could not believe what had just happened.
She noticed the silence after a moment and said, "Are you there?"
I told her I was stunned silent by her disregard. And then I told her we were no longer friends. Not in anger, not in a spiral. I said it clearly and I meant it.
It was uncomfortable. It was one of the most uncomfortable moments I have had in an adult friendship. I chose my need to be heard over the habit of staying quiet about it, and that discomfort was the price of that choice.
What This Has to Do With You
I share this story for the SLPs reading this who recognizes something in it. Not necessarily a friendship, but a pattern. A relationship where you do most of the listening. A dynamic where your concerns get interrupted, redirected, or quietly dismissed. A situation where you have been so practiced at making space for others that you stopped noticing there is no space left for you.
We are incredibly well trained for this. Our entire graduate education is built around attuning to other people, holding space, asking good questions, staying client-centered. Those are real skills and they are genuinely useful. But they do not belong in every relationship in your life. And when they bleed into your personal relationships without any limits at all, you start to disappear.
Not dramatically. Just gradually. One phone call at a time.
What Happened After the Silence
My friend and I reconciled after four years of not speaking. I am genuinely happy about that. The friendship we have now is different. We both put our phones away and close our laptops when we talk. We both ask follow-up questions. We both say something affirming when the other person shares something vulnerable. It took four years and a lot of honest reflection from both of us to get here.
The old version of our friendship was not serving either of us, and I think we both knew it. Her talking constantly and me staying quiet did nothing to actually build our bond. It just kept things comfortable for one person.
The Takeaway I Want to Leave With You
Stop apologizing for needing to be seen and heard. Please do not keep shrinking your voice behind anyone in your life.
You are a speech-language pathologist. You spend your days helping other people find theirs. It would be a real irony if you lost yours in the process.
Your needs are not a burden. They are yours. Honoring them, even when it creates an uncomfortable moment, is one of the most important things you can do for your own health and for the longevity of your career.
With love. Kim
