D.T.M. - Dead to Me

It’s funny, the older you get, the harder it is to end friendships. Breaking up with a lover is hard, but breaking up with a friend is near impossible. It’s not as simple as just saying, ‘I don’t like you any more’ like we used to as kids. Why didn’t we all get that life lesson at some point before adulthood? (Along with how not to buy shoes at whim and mix drinks and fall for dudes who pronounce your name with a soft 'G' - 'Oh, Ggggggilll.') 

A few years ago, I was having a rough time with a girlfriend. Both of us had been making plans to see each other then cancelling them at the last minute until one day we had a terse email exchange about the latest hiccup. It had been building for months, but neither of us had been brave enough to face that perhaps we'd drifted so far apart we were no longer islands in the stream, more like islands in the Pacific. What it came down to was that I didn’t get along with her boyfriend (he was charisma-lite, to say the least) and as a result our friendship had been put on the backburner because it was getting all too hard.

I tend to live my life by a series of clichés. I am a big fan of being ‘firm but fair’ (as Aunty Gill), implementing ‘tough love’ (my friends sometimes don't like this method) and knowing that ‘life’s too short to mess about’ (booking a ticket to fly to NYC to see a boy I just met). So, with this in mind, I fired off an email suggesting there was no point flogging a dead horse and to simply agree to let our friendship go. 

At first my friend was shocked and defensive, declaring that our friendship was important to her. But I bravely pointed out that both of us had been cancelling on each other for months and it had got to the point of silliness. It was time to face reality – our friendship was in its death throes and it was time for a bit of euthanasia (or at least a heavy sedative). 

What may surprise you after such ice-cool culling is that about five years later, we became close friends again. We have since talked about how the admission that our friendship had become driven by obligation so letting go was a really healthy thing to do. It meant that when we did find each other again, we did want to be friends. (And the boring boyfriend was long gone. And there's nothing like bitching about an ex to get the bonding going.)

Since then I have coined the term ‘dead to me’ (or D.T.M.). Word has spread amongst my friends and I’ve been asked advice on how to make it happen. Over the years, despite people reacting with abject horror of sometimes casting friends adrift, what I’ve found is that more often than not, the people that do become D.T.M. end up coming back into your life when you’re both ready. 

But there are some friends that stay D.T.M. Sometimes friendships are born with an unhealthy ratio of give and take. They’re like kryptonite. These are definitely the hardest friendships to make D.T.M. and I recommend approaching with caution.

Everyone has had those friends who talk constantly about themselves and expect hours of consoling when there’s drama, never thinking for a moment that it can be exhausting, or of your own troubles. These ‘friends’ only serve to leave you feeling emotionally spent at the best of times, and at the worst, spiritually anorexic.

So how do you lose the kryptonite? The most common way is to stop making plans and start bouncing calls. I’m not a fan. Sure it’s an easy way out, but if you’ve ever been on the receiving end, it feels like you’re the leftovers of a dirty one-night stand. 

All friendships are like relationships and should be treated the same way – with honesty and respect. But unlike past lovers who usually stay D.T.M., the beauty of a friendship D.T.M. is that sometimes when the time is right, you begin to see dead people.