Toxic friendships: when being with someone drains you instead of enriching you

Toxic friendships: when being with someone drains you instead of enriching you

What if what you call “friendship” is actually what’s holding you back? What can Online Therapy do?

There are relationships that don’t leave bruises, but dig deep inside.

Relationships that don’t shout, don’t make scenes, don’t end with a door slammed, but leave you with a constant sense of emotional fatigue, confusion, doubt.

And sometimes, these relationships have a sweet and reassuring name: “friendship.”

We’re used to recognizing toxicity in romantic relationships. We’ve learned to name dynamics like manipulation, control, emotional dependency.

But when it comes to friendships, we’re much more indulgent.

More blind.

More vulnerable.

Because after all, it’s “just a friend,” right?

And so you don’t ask yourself why you feel drained after seeing them.

Why every time you share something good, they minimize it or change the subject.

Why you feel judged, interrupted, pushed into the background.

Why behind every joke there’s a sting that hurts, even if it comes with a smile.

Over time, you start doubting yourself:

Are you too sensitive? Too needy?

You start thinking it’s normal to feel this way, that maybe you’re the one who’s too sensitive.

What you’re experiencing doesn’t come from a flaw of yours: the problem isn’t you.

The problem is when a bond, however long-standing or apparently deep, is no longer healthy.

When there’s a constant imbalance: you give time, energy, understanding and receive only confusion, guilt, or judgment.

This is a toxic friendship.

And no, it’s not less painful than a wrong romantic relationship. Sometimes, it’s even more subtle.

And therefore harder to see.

In this article, I want to walk with you through a path of awareness and liberation.

Together we’ll talk about:

What a toxic friendship really is, beyond common clichés

The emotional and behavioral signs not to ignore

Why we stay entangled in these bonds, even when we know they hurt us

And above all: how to start choosing relationships that nourish, support, and speak the language of respect and reciprocity

Because you’re not wrong for wanting to feel seen, listened to, and supported.

It’s not weakness, it’s your most authentic emotional right.

If something, even minimal, made you say “this is me,”

don’t ignore it. It’s already a first step toward change.

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When friendship hurts: the signs you shouldn’t ignore anymore

Not all friendships are healthy, and yet many toxic relationships disguise themselves well. They dress up as “affection,” as “I’ll always be there for you,” as “I tell you things to your face because I care.” But beneath that comfortable surface lie dynamics that undermine your emotional balance, your freedom, and over time even your identity.

One of the first signs is the sense of guilt or emotional pressure you feel after every encounter. You leave that conversation or that coffee feeling drained, wrong, or as if you disappointed someone. It’s never light, never nourishing. It’s a heavy energy you carry for hours, sometimes days. And you start asking yourself: “What did I do wrong?”

Another alarm bell is constant belittling, even when masked as irony. Their jokes seem light, but they stick to you like scratches. They make you laugh, then make you feel at fault. It’s the classic line that ends with “I was just joking!”—but you feel the effect, even if it can’t be seen.

In these relationships, there’s no real exchange: there’s competition, not support. Every success of yours is minimized or turned into a challenge. You don’t feel the other genuinely happy for you. And when you’re struggling? You find no space. Because in this dynamic, you’re the one who contains, listens, consoles. Always you giving, never you receiving.

Your needs are ignored, minimized, or worse: you’re made to feel inappropriate for having them.

At a certain point, you realize you’re always talking about them. Your emotions, thoughts, experiences fade into the background. Your space slowly shrinks until it becomes invisible.

And then there’s the attempt—more or less explicit—to isolate you from other relationships. They criticize who you spend time with, plant doubts about those who care about you, make you feel as if the “real bond” is only yours. But that’s not care, it’s control. And it’s not complicity, it’s domination disguised as intimacy.

Finally, perhaps the most subtle and insidious sign: you feel inferior or inadequate. You begin doubting yourself—maybe you’re not enough, maybe you’re the one at fault, maybe you’re too complicated to understand. But the truth is, a healthy friendship never makes you doubt your worth. It doesn’t make you feel “too much.” It welcomes you. It supports you. It makes you feel at home.

Recognizing these signs isn’t easy—especially when there’s affection, history, and maybe a part of you still hopes things will change. But ignoring them means continuing to live in a relationship that slowly consumes you.

And you deserve more.

You deserve a friendship that helps you bloom, not one that makes you doubt yourself.

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Why do we stay? The emotional threads that chain us to relationships that drain us

If recognizing a toxic friendship is hard, leaving it is even harder.

Understanding that something hurts isn’t always enough to let it go. There are subtle yet powerful threads that bind us to certain people, even when those relationships drain us, make us doubt ourselves, or prevent us from growing.

One of the strongest bonds is habit.

We’re made to bond—but also to cling to what we know. Often, the bond with a friendship isn’t just about affection, but about habit, shared history, time spent together.

When someone has been part of your life “forever,” even imagining distance can hurt. It feels like betraying a piece of your past, breaking something sacred.

So you stay, because leaving feels too much like failure—even though in reality, you’d simply be choosing yourself. Even if every time you see them you feel bad, you convince yourself it’s normal, that “we’ve known each other too long to end it now.”

Another powerful knot is the fear of loneliness.

For many people—especially those with low self-esteem—better a bad friendship than none at all. The idea of “losing” someone, even someone who hurts you, can feel more terrifying than staying and enduring. It’s an unconscious but common thought: “If I let this person go, I’ll be alone.”

And loneliness—especially when our inner voice is fragile—can feel scarier than any toxicity.

Often, guilt sticks to us too, or a deep need for approval. We fear being “bad” if we pull away. We think we must adapt, sacrifice ourselves to keep alive a relationship that has long ceased to be reciprocal. After all, we were taught that being friends means being there “no matter what.”

But that “no matter what” becomes a bottomless pit, where you give without receiving anything back.

Others stay out of nostalgia. For the good moments, shared memories, everything that existed before the drift. They cling to the “past” version of that person—or that relationship—and hope it returns.

But memories are not a guarantee of health: a bond that once did you good can hurt you today.

And then there’s the quietest reason of all: lack of awareness.

Often, we don’t recognize a friendship’s toxicity because we grew up inside it, because we’ve never experienced truly healthy relationships, or because the discomfort feels “normal.” Certain words, silences, behaviors were normalized. Without ever knowing something healthier, we can’t see that what we’re living isn’t balance—it’s emotional erosion.

So we stay. Not out of weakness, but out of habit, fear, an ancient need to be seen and accepted.

We stay because it’s what we know. Because even if it hurts, it feels like home.

But the truth is: no one should feel guilty for wanting to feel well.

And the first step out of a relationship that consumes us is this—honestly recognizing what we’re living. Naming the discomfort. Looking at it without judgment. And stopping the justification.

Because we’re not obliged to stay where our well-being is sacrificed.

Loyalty doesn’t mean enduring everything.

Loyalty to others can never come before loyalty to ourselves.

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Letting go without guilt: how to truly protect yourself from a toxic friendship

Leaving a friendship that hurts you isn’t just an emotional choice—it’s a deep act of self-care.

It doesn’t happen overnight. Often, it’s a process filled with doubts, guilt, and small but courageous steps. Because even if that person hurts you, a part of you still loves them—or fears losing them. Yet if a bond drains you, diminishes you, limits you, staying means abandoning a part of yourself.

The first step, however hard, is recognizing the toxic dynamic for what it is.

Naming what you feel. Honestly telling yourself that something in that relationship is no longer healthy. That it’s not “normal” to always feel at fault, inadequate, or exhausted after seeing someone who should make you feel better.

From there begins an important journey: setting clear boundaries.

It’s not selfishness—it’s emotional survival. Learning to say “no,” not replying immediately, not always being there at any cost, is a way to protect your inner space. If you feel ready, you can also speak openly with the other person. Express what you feel, how the relationship affects you. Sometimes it works. Often, unfortunately, it doesn’t.

And that’s okay. Not all relationships can be saved, but all can be understood.

If dialogue brings no change, start reducing contact.

You don’t need to disappear suddenly (unless the situation is truly harmful), but you can say fewer “yes,” carve out more time for yourself, break the cycle of forced presence.

Meanwhile, seek new connections—bonds built on respect, listening, reciprocity.

People who truly see you, without you having to explain yourself a thousand times.

Relationships where you feel free, never indebted.

And if, after all this, you realize the only way to heal is to cut the bond—

know that you can.

You can choose yourself. You can close a door without resentment, but with love for yourself.

It won’t be easy at first, but it will give you back space, energy, identity.

Choosing your peace isn’t cruelty. It’s a profound act of self-preservation.

No relationship deserves the sacrifice of your inner balance.

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What can Online Therapy do?

Many people turn to therapy thinking it’s only useful for overcoming trauma or facing crises.

But one of the most transformative aspects of psychological work—even online—is the chance to deeply review the quality of our relationships.

In particular, therapy can become a concrete, evolutionary tool for recognizing, choosing, and nurturing healthy friendships. Here’s how, step by step.

1. Gaining awareness of dysfunctional relational dynamics

Online therapy helps you clearly see what once seemed “normal”: belittling jokes, guilt after meetings, one-sided relationships that leave you empty or uncomfortable.

Through dialogue with a therapist, you learn to name what you feel, distinguish real affection from toxic bonds, authentic intimacy from emotional dependence.

This is the first step in breaking patterns that keep you tied to people who don’t do you good.

2. Rebuilding self-esteem and the right to balanced relationships

Many people accept unbalanced relationships not because they “don’t notice,” but because they feel they don’t deserve better.

Therapy works on your personal history, past relational wounds, and internalized patterns, helping you recognize your worth and emotional needs.

Only when you feel worthy of respect and listening can you begin choosing those who truly offer it.

3. Learning to set healthy boundaries

Online psychotherapy offers a protected space to explore personal boundaries—often confused with coldness or selfishness.

You learn to say no without guilt, not to respond immediately to those who drain you, to create distances that protect you.

And above all, to do so without exploding or breaking down, but with assertiveness and self-care.

4. Leaving toxic relationships consciously

When you realize a friendship hurts you, knowing how to leave isn’t automatic. Online therapy guides you through that delicate passage—helping you decide whether to talk, gradually distance yourself, or make a clean break.

It supports you through guilt, doubt, initial loneliness.

And reminds you that you’re not wrong for choosing distance from those who steal your peace.

5. Building new, healthy, nourishing relationships

Online therapeutic work isn’t only about “breaking away from what hurts,” but also learning to recognize and cultivate positive relationships.

It helps you develop new criteria for choosing who to spend time with: people who listen, respect your time and emotions, who make you feel seen, welcomed, valued—not inadequate.

Thus begins a new relational narrative, where you don’t adapt to be loved, but grow alongside those who love you in your full being.

Online therapy, with its flexibility and accessibility, makes all this possible from home, within a safe and professional space where your journey can begin.

Because choosing healthy relationships isn’t luck—it’s awareness, inner work, and self-love. And every step toward that emotional well-being is a step toward a truer life.

“It’s not selfish to step away from those who drain you. It’s respect for yourself.”

 

Bibliographic References:

• Barash, S. S. (2009). Toxic Friends: The Antidote for Women Stuck in Complicated Friendships (1st ed.). St. Martin’s Press. ISBN 978-0-312-38639-9
• Valen, K. (2010). The Twisted Sisterhood: Unraveling the Dark Legacy of Female Friendships (1st ed.). Ballantine Books. ISBN 978-0-345-52051-7

 

For information write to Dr. Jessica Zecchini.

Email contact: consulenza@jessicazecchini.it

WhatsApp contact: +39 370 32 17 351