I Used to Be a Toxic Friend

There was a time in my life when I thought I was a phenomenal friend. The kind who sent funny TikToks at 2 AM, and delivered unsolicited life advice like some kind of broke, unlicensed therapist. But then, after a heartbreaking confrontation from a friend I realized, I was a toxic friend. At the time, I didn't admit it, of course. But it slowly began to hit me.

The more I thought about it - the more it seemed obvious. Maybe? I'm still confused. My friend was right. Did I really never hype them up? Did I really always make fun of their hopes and dreams? I tried to find something to laugh at.

Well, at least I thought it was all in good fun. In the cute, self-aware, “Haha, I’m so toxic” way people joke about. But was I really walking around with a neon red flag stapled to my forehead, totally oblivious?

Maybe if I'm being honest. I had main character syndrome, boundary issues, and a PhD in emotional inconsistency.

And the worst part? I genuinely thought I was being a good friend.

The Toxic Greatest Hits

I don't know, or maybe don't want to admit But if I had to. Here are just a few of my biggest offenses:

1. I Treated My Friends Like My Personal Emotional Dumping Ground

You know that feeling when you really need to rant? Like, you had a terrible day, your boss is incompetent, your crush took 47 minutes to text back, and suddenly the world is ending? Well, instead of asking my friends if they had the emotional bandwidth, I just launched into my TED Talk of Problems™.

I once FaceTimed my best friend crying in the middle of her mom’s birthday dinner to discuss a guy who, in hindsight, looked like a poorly made Sims character. She answered. Because she was a good friend. I, on the other hand, was a walking PSA for why people need to turn off read receipts.

2. I Had the Emotional Availability of a Houseplant

Look, therapy is expensive, and at one point, I was outsourcing all my problems to my friends. But the moment they needed me? Well, my friend accused me of being "suspiciously busy" even though I always thought my reasons were genuine. Not in an obvious “I don’t care” way. no, no, she thinks my toxicity was covert. Here are some examples she gave:

1. “Omg, I’m SO sorry you’re going through that, but can I call you later?” (I never called.)
2. “You should totally take time to process that! Wishing you the best, queen.” (Unfollowed their Instagram story updates like a coward.)
3. “Wow, that’s wild. Do you wanna get drinks and forget about it?” (Ah yes, avoidance—the best coping mechanism.)

The truth was, I wanted support without offering it. I wanted a best friend, but I was acting like a situationship in human form, only available when it was convenient for me. Okay, I admitted it. Fine?

3. I Treated Apologies Like Performance Art

At the peak of my delusion, I believed that saying “sorry” was enough. But a real apology isn’t just “I’m sorry.” A real apology is changed behavior. And I? I was repeating my mistakes like they were a hit single.

My friendships would go something like this:

1. I’d mess up.
2. My friend would get upset.
3. I’d dramatically apologize. (“Omg, I feel so bad. I’m literally the worst friend ever.”)
4. My friend, now forced into comforting me, would say, “No, it’s okay, I forgive you.”
5. I’d go right back to doing the exact same thing.

Basically, I was love-bombing my way out of accountability. My apologies weren’t about them—they were about mefeeling better.

The Wake-Up Call: When a Friend Finally Called Me Out

One day, in a moment that felt like the season finale of my own sitcom, a close friend ghosted me. No warning, no “we need to talk”—just radio silence.

At first, I was offended. Me? Ghosted? Wasn’t I the charismatic, loyal, self-proclaimed funniest friend in the group? How dare she?

But then, months later, she sent a long message. And it began with four words that haunt me to this day:

“You drained me, dude.”

She laid it all out. The way I made everything about myself. The way I expected her to drop everything for me, but when she needed me, I was suddenly so busy. The way my apologies were just lip service with zero follow-through.

It was humbling. I sat with that message, fighting every urge to defend myself, justify my actions, or deflect. But she was right. I had taken more than I gave. And for the first time, instead of saying “I’m sorry,” I just said:

“I hear you.”

The Redemption Arc: How I Actually Fixed It

Becoming a non-toxic friend wasn’t an overnight rebrand. I didn’t just wake up one day cured: I had to actively unlearn years of selfish tendencies. Here’s what actually helped:

1. I Stopped Making Everything About Me

Shocking, I know. But instead of word-vomiting about my own experiences, I started listening. Like, actually listening. Instead of saying, “Omg, that reminds me of something similar that happened to me,” I just let people talk. It's not easy, mind you.

2. I Started Asking, “Do You Want Advice or Just to Vent?”

Not everyone wants a 40-point action plan when they tell you their problems. Some people just need you to agree that their ex is trash and move on.

3. I Started Holding Myself Accountable

No more empty apologies. No more getting defensive when someone called me out. I stopped saying “That wasn’t my intention” and started focusing on the impact instead.

4. I Gave My Friends the Same Energy They Gave Me

Friendships are a two-way street, not a free emotional support hotline. If my friend shows up for me, I show up for them—without excuses, delays, or emotional avoidance.

Final Thoughts: Friendship is a Choice

Being a better friend wasn’t about being perfect -it was about being aware. It was about realizing that people don’t owe you unlimited patience just because you mean well. It was about learning that friendship is a privilege, not an entitlement.

So if you’re reading this and feeling personally attacked, maybe it’s time for your villain-to-hero redemption arc. Just remember:

If your friends are constantly exhausted by you, maybe it’s time to start being the friend you wish you had.

And for the love of God, ask before trauma-dumping at brunch.