My best friend, my bully

Everyone deserves to be able to tell their story regardless of who the villain is. So often, people are affected by people close to them which makes them afraid to talk about what happened. They’re afraid of who is going to read it and what people will think.

I used to be one of these people. 

But, I am finally ready to tell a piece of my story that I have kept mostly quietly to myself, just sharing littles bits and pieces over the years. This part started in childhood and shaped the way I formed relationships and I didn’t even know it. It affected parts of me that I am still processing and healing from. My daughter dying in 2022 is what finally broke this part of my life wide open and I started seeing it for what it was: bullying, manipulation, lies, and a friendship that was never really a friendship at all. 

It’s important to note that there were good times with this person. A lot of them. It’s the only reason I kept going back to her. We had a lot of the same interests and hobbies. We both loved horror movies, true crime, crocheting and crafting, sour patch kids, and we could spend hours talking about nothing.

From the outside, we were inseparable. 

But inside the friendship was something much darker. Something only my closest friends and family could see and repeatedly tried to help me see. 

My best friend was also my biggest bully. 

She tormented me.

She rocked my world in ways I didn’t even notice when it was happening. My therapist helped me to see some of her behaviors as symptoms of an undiagnosed mental health condition. I didn’t feel targeted. It wasn’t just me she was mean to. I wasn’t the only one she told lies about. But, I was consistently the closest to her. And because of that, she always resorted to me being her punching bag. And I just continued to take it. 

Until my daughter died. 

When Makenna was born, my mom called her. Let’s call her Tina. Like I said, she was my best friend. I needed her to know immediately what was happening. I needed her support. 

In the beginning, she was there for me. Or so it seemed. She came over and cooked us dinner, hung out with me at home because I couldn't handle leaving the house. It was nice just sitting and being with her when I was barely able to function. I did feel supported at first.

I wish I could say something changed slowly. But it changed the way it always did: seemingly overnight and with no warning. It was as if she had just simply had enough of “my problems” and needed the focus back on her. 

My birthday is September 3rd. So not even four months after Makenna died, I experienced my first birthday without her. If you’re a loss parent reading this, you know how complex birthdays are after loss. Parents are often left feeling like how can we celebrate our birthday and the life we were given when our baby didn’t have that chance? 

I expressed all of this to Tina. I told her I didn’t want to do anything for my birthday, I didn’t want anyone to say anything to me. I couldn’t bear the thought of acknowledging I was given life when my daughter wasn’t. 

She took that as “don’t talk to me at all on my birthday”. 

And that’s exactly what she did. 

Nothing from her on my birthday. No “I know today is hard”, “are you okay?”, “thinking of you”. Nothing. And you know what? Maybe that’s my fault for not clearly communicating what I needed that day. But regardless, it’s important to note. 

So let’s move on to the next day of importance after Makenna died. 

Her due date. September 17, 2022. 

Everything about Makenna’s upcoming due date was complicated. I was having an extremely hard time letting go of the fact that I should still be pregnant up until that point. How am I grieving a baby that I should still be pregnant with? It didn’t make sense. I planned out a way for me to feel supported by friends and family for Makenna’s due date. I wanted everyone to order their coffee with Makenna’s name and send me a picture. 

Simple, really. 

Most people order coffee everyday anyway, all they had to do was change the name in their app or when ordering. The amount of love I got from this request was still the most loved I have ever felt regarding Makenna’s life and death. Over 100 people sent me pictures of their coffee with Makenna’s name on it. Even people who didn’t drink coffee sent me pictures of their tea, their lemonade, even Makenna’s name written across their plastic water bottles. My friends and family really showed up for me in the most simple way and it felt (and still feels) huge. Even dozens of loss moms that I didn’t even know that knew who Makenna was, and that was one of the coolest parts.

But not Tina. 

At the end of the day I texted her and let her know I was upset that I hadn’t heard from her. I expressed that with every picture I was sent, I was thinking about why I hadn’t heard from her. Her response was to make me feel like I was asking for too much.

 She ended up calling me the next day and we were on the phone for about an hour. The amount of things she said to me in this phone call that opened my eyes to the kind of person she truly is, was astonishing. There were so many things that she said that were hurtful and I don’t know what even came first. The best way to share them is in a list:

1. “All you talk about is Makenna and Rainbows for Makenna.”

2. “You told me you didn’t want to acknowledge your birthday, you can’t have it both ways.”

3. “I don’t even follow RFM because it’s triggering for me.”

4. “Today was the first day in weeks I was able to relax; I wasn’t thinking about getting a coffee with Makenna’s name on it.” 

5. “I don’t need to drink a coffee to remember Makenna.”

6. “The things you post about healthcare are ridiculous and wrong.” 

7. Couldn’t understand the difference between my sister taking me to the aquarium to go to the butterfly room for my birthday and not wanting to go to an amusement park with her. 

8. “We just handle our traumas differently.” -this was said at least 3 separate times in regards to me not wanting to leave my house. 

9. When I told her there were things that happened that she didn’t know she said “don’t even; you told me everything; don’t pretend you didn’t”. Completely dismissing the fact that there were things that I hadn't even told Trevor yet...so no. She did not know everything.

10. “I’m not the only one that thinks this.” -she loved to say this any time we ever got into a fight. 

Each time she said something hurtful it sent a shock through my body. I could physically feel the pain she was causing each time she minimized what I was going through. I was sobbing, telling her I held my daughter as she took her last breath and she was responding by telling me we handle trauma differently. The trauma of your child dying is something she has never experienced and she was comparing the things she had been through to what I was not even 4 months out from. 

And the craziest part of all of this? I let her gaslight me into thinking I was the problem. I was clearly grieving wrong and everyone was mad at me for it. I felt like I couldn’t share anything. Ever again. It put me in a really dark place. An even darker place than I was already in. I couldn’t believe she had said all of these things to me and stood behind them. I spent the rest of that afternoon crying in Makenna’s garden. She was no longer a safe person. Everything about this relationship suddenly felt wrong but I also felt stuck. 

I began talking about what happened with my therapist. We played around with the idea that not everyone deserved to know Makenna. But I wasn’t completely satisfied with this. Someone passing by in the grocery store? Sure. But my best friend? How could I not talk about my child?

A few weeks prior to this, we had talked about going to St Thomas together. Trevor’s family lives there and we go a couple of times a year. In August of 2022, we went back for the first time since Makenna died for my brother in law’s wedding. Something transformative happened to me involving my connection to Makenna on that trip. I’m still not quite sure what it was, but St Thomas became Makenna’s place. I felt the most peace and the closest to Makenna I ever had. So when that phone call happened after Makenna’s due date, I decided that Tina could not go there. She could not go to Makenna’s place and infest it with her bad energy. 

I set the hardest boundary I’ve probably ever set, but it became the first of many. It was the first time I was truly standing up for myself against Tina. I wasn’t going to allow her to take this from me. I told Tina she couldn’t come to St Thomas with us. I told her that because Makenna is so triggering for her, she shouldn’t come. I let her know that in St Thomas I feel extremely close to Makenna and cannot not talk about her. I said we could revisit the option in a few years, but I knew that would not be happening. 

In February of 2023, I found out I was pregnant for the 4th time. On top of this being pregnancy after three losses, it hadn’t even been a year yet since Makenna died. Over the next couple of months I felt very uncomfortable and on edge every time I was around Tina. I was uncomfortable talking about Makenna and it was uncomfortable to avoid talking about her. My frame of mind started shifting from “not everyone deserves to know her” to “how can I possibly continue this”. But again, I couldn’t help but feel like I was the one that was wrong and I was just being dramatic about how badly she had treated me.

I started thinking about the baby I was pregnant with, my little boy. How could I allow her to know my living child when she refuses to know my dead one? She called Makenna her niece. I didn’t love it. It made me feel icky every time she said it. But, when she started calling my son her nephew while I was pregnant with him, I started picturing my son coming home. 

And I did not want her around him. But, I still couldn’t work up the courage to admit that this “friendship” needed to end.

Sometime in April I visited Tina at an event. The details of what exactly happened aren’t important. But she told me something that I knew wasn’t true. I was actually stunned into silence and felt like I needed to retreat into my shell and flip a table all at the same time. I knew the reason for the lie. She couldn’t handle the attention I was getting from having a dead kid. What she couldn’t wrap her mind around was that I didn’t want the attention. I wanted my baby. 

But still, she told the lie. 

It was this moment where I knew I could no longer go on like this. She had spent the last 10 months making insensitive comments, talking about her future pregnancy plans knowing how much pregnancy hurt me to talk about, would change the subject when I did get the courage to mention Makenna, and now she had this lie. 

I needed to talk this out in therapy and come up with an exit plan. 

In the meantime, Makenna’s first birthday came and went while we were planning for our first big fundraiser. Tina had promised she would put together a basket for our raffles. We had over 50 donations for raffles and I was waiting on hers to add it to the inventory. But, in the days leading up to the fundraiser, I hadn’t heard anything from Tina. I decided at this moment that I was not going to reach out to her ever again. If she no-showed my fundraiser, I knew I was going to text her the following day and end the friendship. 

And that’s exactly what ended up happening. 

So, I texted her. I told her I loved her, but that we are not in a place in our own traumas to appropriately support each other without one of us getting hurt. I told her I was sorry and that I genuinely wished the best for her. I immediately blocked her number and all of her social media. I needed to close the door. I couldn't wait to see her response because I knew she could not and would never take any kind of accountability for anything. I couldn’t allow her to gaslight me one last time. 

I felt confident in my decision and I didn’t want her to try to persuade me that I was wrong. Now, 3 years later I still feel the same way. I am confident that my life is better without her in it.

 I am not on edge waiting for her to drop in and out of my life at any moment. She tried that once. On my birthday in 2024, she messaged me on instagram. She was replying to a story that she assumed was about her. So much for not following my page right? But, I had the tools to handle this now. Instead of giving her what she wanted, attention and a fight, I simply blocked her. Access denied. 

I know exactly what kind of friendships I do not want. When something feels unsafe, I know how to handle it. I don’t keep friendships where I have to constantly read the room or tiptoe around bad moods. Most importantly, I love myself enough to not tolerate being bullied.

But, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows. I am left with real, genuine trauma from this friendship. I always feel like people are going to just decide to not be friends with me anymore. It gives me so much anxiety that the people I care about, might not care about me as much as I care about them. I am always wondering if someone who claims to be my friend is talking about me negatively behind my back.

I always feel like I am too much. Specifically the way I grieve. My emotions are too big for others. 

I am terrified of giving her access to hurt me again. I am uncomfortable going to certain places in fear of running into her. I hate that we have mutual contacts. It horrifies me that something I share with someone else could get back to her, which leads me not to trust people. 

The list goes on. 

I am not left without scars. 

17 years of bullying by someone that claimed to be your best friend will do that to you. 

By sharing this part of my grief, I am taking back my power from someone that made me feel powerless for so long. I will never give her access to hurt me again.

If you are a loss mama reading this and find yourself in a similar relationship with someone that claims to be your friend, please take this as the sign you need to take back your power.