The Pity Friendship and the Right to Stand Equal

For years I stayed in a friendship that made me feel safe but small. I see now that it was never equal — and that healing means stepping into the relationships where I can finally stand tall.

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I’ve just realised something hard to admit, but freeing.

There was a friendship in my life — one that lasted over 15 years — that I think was never truly equal. It was likely held together by something that looked like care, but wasn’t really connection.

The other person had lost people to suicide. I think they might have felt good — even righteous — about helping someone like me. Maybe they saw me as someone fragile, someone to protect. And at times, I was fragile.

But I wasn’t on their level. Not in their eyes. And deep down, I think I knew that. And I accepted it.

Because I wanted to be looked after. I was drawn to people who would take that role — people who made me feel safe, even if it meant being the one always a little bit behind, always a little less.

Looking back now, I see how human that was. I needed safety. I needed someone. But I also see how that dynamic — when sustained over years — kept me small. It might not have been intentional on their part, but when someone is always “helping” you, there’s a subtle imbalance of power that develops. One that can be hard to escape.

And I’ve resented people for that. Still do, if I’m honest. But I also see now — that resentment isn’t the whole story.

Because I played a part too.

Not in creating the dynamic — but in maintaining it. I didn’t know better. But now I do.


This in-between period I’m in? This space without the old friends, without the distractions, without the illusion of safety?

It’s been necessary. Painfully, quietly, beautifully necessary. Because I could have gone through life continuing the same cycles. And on the surface, everything would have looked fine.

But I would have never met myself. Never claimed my full weight in the world. Never stepped into the kind of relationship where I could stand equal — not pitied, not rescued, not admired — just seen.

And that is my birthright. To be whole. To be loved without hierarchy. To be a friend, not a project.