Seasons of Friendship And the Pain of Being Replaced

Friendship is one of the strange, yet most beautiful journeys we walk through in life. It grows with us, and sometimes… breaks us in ways we never expected.

But if you look back, the purest form of friendship always begins in one place:

School : Where Friendship Is Innocent and Unfiltered

School friendships are magic.

You don’t choose them based on status, comfort, convenience, or mutual benefits.

It’s the time when:

Sharing one lunch box meant sharing a piece of your heart

One bench held a thousand secrets

You never feared being judged

Back then, friendship was simple.

Uncomplicated.

Pure.

College : When Having a “Gang” Feels Like a Personality

Then comes college. 

Suddenly, the number of friends you have becomes a symbol of how “mass” you are.

Late-night canteen tea, group selfies, mass bunk plans, heartbreak advice...

But college friendships, though beautiful not lifelong. 

Adulthood : When You Realize Quality > Quantity

There comes a phase, usually in the mid-20s or early 30s, when life quietly teaches you something:

You don’t need a crowd.

You just need one or two people who actually understand you.

You begin cutting off noise.

You choose depth over numbers.

Your circle becomes smaller, softer, and safer.

You are content with just,

One friend you can cry to.

One friend you can call at 12 a.m. without thinking twice.

One friend who knows your scars and still stands next to you.

Those become your real people.

And Then… the Shock of “Community Friendships”

People who are in your life simply because you live in the same building.

Same elevator.

Same WhatsApp group.

Same festival committee.

They are friendly, yes.

Helpful, yes.

A part of your daily environment, yes.

But… they are not the ones who know your soul.

And that becomes painfully clear when someone you loved deeply starts replacing you with them.

The Hurt of Being Thrown Away for “Community Friends”

What hurts the most is not that she found new people…

It’s that she threw you away for them.

Your best friend:

the girl who shared your bed,

your midnight calls,

your coffee moments,

your heartbreak stories 

suddenly found a new circle.

And instead of holding both relationships with maturity,

she pushed you aside because she now has “community friends.”

Friends who are around her simply because they stay in the same apartment.

People who entered her life out of convenience, not connection.

Hearing her repeat

“community friends, community friends, community friends”

felt like being stabbed with the same knife over and over.

It wasn’t just a word.

It was a dismissal.

A downgrade.

A painful reminder that someone you loved deeply didn’t fight for you the way you fought for them.

Sorry, my dear… I wasn’t able to handle ‘mature’ enough to ignore the way you showed your true colours. 

It wasn’t that I failed. it’s just that you moved on because you wanted community friends. And yet… thank you. 

This lesson, as painful as it was, is making me stronger than ever.

#FriendshipJourney #RealFriendship #SchoolFriends #CollegeFriends #QualityOverQuantity #Adulthood #MakingMyCircleSmaller #FriendshipBreakup #Betrayal #CommunityFriends #FindingMyPeople #EmotionalHealing #FriendshipGoals #ToxicFriendship #MovingOn #PainfulLessons

💔 A Letter From a Tired Heart - A Loveless Marriage - Day 3

This morning, I woke up clutching my stomach, those sharp, twisting cramps that make you forget how to breathe. I looked at my calendar, confused. Ten days early. Damn it.

If you are a woman, you know that feeling, The frustration and the pain. As I swung my legs out of bed and placed my feet on the floor, it felt like stepping on thorns. My feet hurt, my back ached, and my mood? Let’s just say it was a storm waiting to break.

Still, I pulled myself up. Because that’s what we do, we push through. But as I shuffled to the kitchen, exhausted, the man I married gave me that look. You know that ONE look that silently says, “You are just being lazy.”

To avoid an argument, I muttered softly, “I got my periods. I am unwell.”

And then came the sentence that broke me. “My sister never behaved like this. Behaving as if she is the only woman in the world”

That one line cut deeper than the cramps. Because what he was comparing me to was his sister, ten years ago, before she was married, before the daily grind, before life’s invisible weights started stacking up.

How can you compare two women from two completely different worlds?

His sister didn’t have to travel through traffic for hours every day. She didn’t sit at a desk for 8 hours fighting back pain and deadlines. She didn’t come home to cook, clean, manage, nurture, while silently fighting a body that’s screaming inside.

And maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t going through what I might be, hormonal imbalance, stress-induced cycles, pre-menopausal changes, chronic fatigue, or anxiety that no blood test can measure.

Women’s bodies are not machines. We are cycles of change, physical, emotional, spiritual. And no two cycles are the same.

So, to every woman reading this:  Please, don’t let anyone make you feel weak for your pain. You are not overreacting. You are surviving battles no one else can see. Cry if it helps. And know this: your worth is not measured by how well you hide your pain.

And to the men who are reading:

When she says she’s in pain, believe her. Don’t compare. Just show empathy. Sometimes love doesn’t need words,  just understanding.

Because every cruel comment might fade, but its stays - long after the cramps do.