Friendships Matter... Until The Don't

Do you have the courage to let go?

Photo by Joel Muniz on Unsplash

As we age, friendships can be one of the most stabilizing forces in our lives. However, just as with everything else in life, friendships evolve. The ways we connect with others are shaped by life transitions such as relocating, job changes, and retiring, all of which influence our relationships and how we prioritize them.

When we were younger, we might have had the energy and emotional bandwidth to maintain a wide circle of friends, accommodate difficult relationships, or brush off hurtful comments. Now, with time feeling more precious, the tolerance for unhealthy dynamics or toxic exchanges wears thin.

There’s a natural pruning that occurs. We become more intentional about who we spend our time with and how those interactions make us feel. This isn’t selfish—it’s self-preservation.

As we age, there’s an unspoken truth that our friendships go through transformations. We spend a lifetime building connections—friends from work, youth, and shared interests—but not all of these relationships withstand the test of time.

The recent election results brought out an unsolicited remark from a good friend, directed at me personally yet shared in a group text.

“Fifty-four percent of American adults read at or below a sixth-grade level. I feel like this is a relevant statistic to share with you right now, Patti,” an old high school friend texted after learning who I voted for.

I took offense to it and did nothing. But the remark rented valuable space in my head all week. This is no longer a friend but an acquaintance I’ll likely never give the time of day to, ever again.

Reuniting with friends from another era

Recently, I reconnected with an old high school friend. We hadn’t seen each other in over 50 years. Although we kept in touch off and on long distance, she was in the area this week and asked if she could stop by. I said yes.

A little background: she was my best friend in high school back in Michigan. I moved to Florida during my senior year, but we later reconnected in Wyoming, where she was in college. We became roommates and lived together for a couple of years until I relocated again. At one point, she ran out of money for school, and I lent her $5,000 with the agreement she’d pay me back within a year. That was in 1979. She never did, and after several attempts, I let it go—don’t ask me why; I just did. We stayed in touch over the years, but the debt was never mentioned again. She married, divorced, had a child, and continued to struggle financially on her own.

I never offered to help her out again.

We reminisced about events I could barely remember. High school wasn’t a happy time for me. I tried to laugh and engage but it was forced and I felt uncomfortable and stressed in doing so.

The old debt hung in the air like an unspoken question, waiting to be addressed. When I brought it up, she dismissed it as one of those “silly things kids do when trying to survive.” It didn’t feel silly to me, and I wasn’t letting it go without saying my piece. It didn’t end well; she couldn’t understand why it mattered to me that she at least acknowledge the wrongdoing or attempt to repay some of it.

She sat down at 11 a.m. and didn’t leave until after 10 p.m. I tried several times to gently nudge her out the door, but she overstayed her welcome until my husband Carl came home and intervened, insisting we needed to get to bed early. In other words, he saved me from myself—and from being too polite.

Is there such a thing as being too polite?

I will never have contact with her again, there’s no point.

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The older we get, the more selective we tend to become with our time and energy. It’s not a conscious decision at first, but there’s an awareness that begins to settle in. We start asking ourselves: Does this friendship still bring me joy, or is it draining me? Is this relationship one of support or obligation?

Friendships in senior years aren’t immune to the changes life throws at us.

Health issues can strain our patience and sensitivity, as I’ve experienced recently. The political climate adds another layer of tension, turning once meaningful conversations into tense and emotionally heated exchanges. Unfiltered opinions, frustrations, shaming, name-calling, and even brutal honesty surface in ways that feel damaging, sometimes causing distress or anger—something seniors certainly don’t need at this stage in life.

Yet, in the midst of this tension, there’s a deeper realization that friendships truly matter—but sometimes, they reach their expiration date. This realization doesn’t make the hurt any less real, but it helps clarify the way forward.

What used to bind us to certain people, such as shared history or mutual reliance, may no longer serve us. What once kept the relationship afloat no longer feels strong enough to sustain the weight of life’s changes.

The importance of reciprocity

If a friendship isn’t reciprocal—if it constantly drains one’s emotional resources—it becomes exhausting to maintain. Aging brings a natural inclination to let go of what no longer serves us.

It’s not that we’ve become less caring or loving; rather, we now recognize the importance of relationships that nurture us rather than deplete us. Friendships should feel safe, supportive, and understanding. We seek friends who show up for us in meaningful ways, who acknowledge the emotional complexities of aging without judgment. Friendships should be spaces where we feel seen and heard without filters—but also without unnecessary harshness.

Just a couple of days ago, I spent time with my good friend MB. We shared over six hours together, having deep conversations about politics, health, and family. We visited a cheese shop, a candy store, a rock shop, and finished with a stop at the grocery store. After returning home, we took her dog for a walk. Rather than feeling drained when I walked through my door, I felt invigorated—as if I were on a runner’s high.

Spending time and sharing with the right person can energize and remind you that all is right with the world, even when it isn’t.

Knowing when to let go

At some point, we come to realize that holding onto a friendship for the sake of longevity alone can be more harmful than letting it go. Just because someone has been in your life for decades doesn’t mean they’re meant to stay. It can be painful to accept that people change, and sometimes that means growing apart.

As you weigh the hurt of that long-term relationship in your life, it’s important to ask yourself: Is this friendship still fulfilling, or is it causing more harm than good? There’s no rush to decide, but reflecting on what the friendship brings to your life now—rather than what it used to bring—can guide you toward clarity.

Honesty vs. brutality in friendships

Finally, it’s worth considering how brutal honesty, especially in friendships, can either strengthen or strain bonds. There’s a fine line between speaking truth and being needlessly hurtful. Sometimes, friends cross that line, whether intentionally or not. When you’re already dealing with your own struggles, like health issues, this “brutal honesty” can feel like an additional burden.

As we age, friendships that survive do so because both people understand the balance between honesty and kindness. Filtered or not, the way we communicate should honor the years invested in that relationship. When words become weapons, the friendship is at risk of collapse.

Friendships Matter—Until They Don’t

And when they don’t, it’s okay to let go. Aging teaches us that it’s not about the quantity of friendships, but the quality. It’s about surrounding ourselves with people who see us for who we are now, not who we used to be—and who love us through the changes.

What qualities do you most value in the friendships you want to carry forward into the next phase of your life?