The question
I have an old friend – someone I went to school with, and have been friends with for several decades now. But over the past few years, for various reasons, I've realized the friendship just isn't working for me any longer.
I find her annoying and self-centred and boring – to the point where I have begun to wonder what it was I saw in her in the first place. She still invites me to do things with her, or come to her house for dinner, and I accept, but these occasions are always awkward and stilted, because my heart's just not in it.
I don't ever call her or initiate contact, but she doesn't get the hint. I feel like I'd like to move on, but at the same time I don't want to hurt her feelings. What can I do? Sometimes, I wish there was an "unfriend" button in the real world.
The answer
There are all kinds of buttons one might wish for in the real world (for example, just the other day in a liquor-store lineup I was yearning for a remote with a "conduct transaction faster" button to point at the woman in front of me). But they don't exist (yet), sadly.
But I'm not sure I would use an "unfriend" button even if there were such a thing. I've never even used my "unfriend" button online for fear of hurting the other person's feelings.
Over the years, here at Damage Control Central, we have acquired many mottos. Our original and very first, when we were just a small startup and not the international conglomerate you see today, and which we used to shout out on the dance floor at company functions, was: "What's done is done and can't be undone/The bell that's rung, it can't be unrung/The sands of time, they can't un-run/You did the deed, now it's gotta be spun!"
Among my more recent favourites is an old Spanish proverb: "It is not the same to talk of bulls as to be in the bullring." It aptly describes how I feel about the product many of our competitors in the advice-giving industry routinely dish out: euphonious but impractical "talk of bulls."
And lately, I feel, there's been quite a bit of "talk of bulls" when it comes to the topic of how to unfriend someone in the non-online world. Example: a book entitled How to Break Up With Anyone: Letting Go of Friends, Family, and Everyone In-Between by "relationship expert" Jamye Waxman.
First of all, just as an aside, may I ask how one becomes a "relationship expert"? What university or community college do you attend, to acquire the hubris to call yourself that?
In fact, I want to say as a public service announcement (and a digression on my digression): People, beware all these soi-disant "experts."
I was on a panel once with a woman who figured she was a "marriage expert" because she'd been married four times. Seems to me the more deluded and confused people are on a given topic, the more likely they are to call themselves "experts."
But I digress. Waxman advocates an in-person "endship," a face-to-face encounter to tell your soon-to-be-ex-friend you don't want to see him/her any more, and why.
I've also read an advice blogger who suggests maybe sending "a plant and a nice card thanking them for their friendship and formally acknowledging its end." I've also seen it suggested you "ghost" the person you're sick of, a neologism meaning abruptly ending all contact, failing to return texts, phone calls or e-mails.
But this is all "talk of bulls," highly impractical and, moreover, I would say needlessly hurtful. (Although, I suppose, effective in one way: If I got a cactus and a card saying "Thank you for your friendship, Dave, but it's over," I would loathe that person and would never want to see him/her again.)
No, I suggest you do it the old-fashioned way. We ease into friendships; when you want out, your best bet is to ease out.
We live in a wired world now and have any number of ways to communicate: phone, text, e-mail, Facebook, Twitter, etc. I would continue to communicate with your friend on all these platforms, and in a positive way (if you find this tough, just try to remember the things you like about her).
But just do so less and less frequently, over time. "Pour treacle in the works," as we like to say at Damage Control Central. Slow everything way, way down. (It doesn't sound as if she's done anything egregious, such as run off with your husband, or I'd advocate a more abrupt "endship.") Take forever to get back to her. Deflect all attempts to get together in person.
After a while, I would think even the most obtuse friend would get the hint, and move on.
Are you in a sticky situation? Send your dilemmas to damage@globeandmail.com. Please keep your submissions to 150 words and include a daytime contact number so we can follow up with any queries.