Dear Roe,
I recently was on a girls’ trip with some close friends. One of the nights I stayed up late with one of the girls, while the others went to bed. The two of us ended up quite drunk and I said some really awful things about our friend who was asleep in the next room. I would consider it possibly friendship-ending things – personal things about her and her marriage and about how I found her annoying during the trip. When I woke up and sobered up I realised we were probably not as quiet as we thought we were being, and there was a possibility she could have heard me through the walls. I’m overwhelmed with guilt as what I said wasn’t stuff I feel deep down, or stuff I would want, or need, to say to my friend directly. She is an amazing person and is also going through a hard time at the moment. I have no idea why I said these things other than it being alcohol-fuelled bitchiness. She never mentioned it the next day, but I also haven’t heard from her since the trip, which isn’t completely unusual but has sent me into a bit of a panic. She’s not confrontational so I don’t think she would bring it up if she did hear – but now I’m not sure if I should mention the potential elephant in the room and ask her if she heard, or if I should move on and hope she was fast asleep that night. I’m so nervous for the next time we talk or see each other. Help! (And yes, this taught me a lesson about drinking and gossiping!)
I don’t answer too many friendship questions in the column but I think this one is helpful to address because in all types of relationships, we can catch ourselves taking other people for granted, speaking about them unkindly, and being a subpar version of ourselves. When we transgress, when we hurt other people, when we disrespect other people – whether they’re aware of our transgression or not – it gives us an opportunity to reflect on our ideal version of ourselves and our relationships; the reality of how we are individually and in relationship with others; and doing the work to bridge that gap wherever possible.
You’ve already started doing the work, and that’s important. It takes courage – the uncomfortable, self-confronting type of courage – to do what you’re doing right now; to look clearly at your behaviour without excuses or sugarcoating and admit to yourself that you failed yourself, and you failed someone you care about. It’s the first step in becoming a better friend and person, so well done on taking it.
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The next part of this journey is asking yourself how you got here, and what led to you saying friendship-ending things in the dark.
Think about what made you say these things – not just thinking about the content of what you said, but what was behind it. Have you been feeling stretched thin in this friendship, trying to support someone who’s going through a hard time while quietly carrying your own overwhelm? Is it possible you’ve been feeling unacknowledged, or maybe even a little envious of her ability to be vulnerable and take up space in ways that you haven’t allowed yourself to? Sometimes, when someone is in crisis, we rally around them – but a quieter part of us resents that rally. Not because we don’t love them, but because we haven’t checked in with our own needs in the process.
Or perhaps, if you’re honest, a darker feeling crept in: a sense of relief that it’s not you who’s struggling, a flash of superiority or detachment – the kind we’re often ashamed to name, but which live in all of us, particularly when we’re tired, insecure or lonely. Judgment is after all, a well-worn shield for those exact feelings.
If your gut won’t let you rest, then honesty might be the path to peace. You don’t have to spill every detail
And what about beyond her? Have you been stressed? Unanchored? A little disconnected from yourself and others lately? When we gossip, it’s often less about the person we’re discussing and more about our own longing for closeness, control or a moment of power if we feel powerless in other parts of our lives. Did you find yourself falling into that old, seductive rhythm of saying something cutting to cement a bond with the person next to you? Have you done that before and if so, why? Is it discomfort with silence? A need to feel interesting or valuable? Do you worry that your presence alone isn’t enough unless you’re offering something sharp-edged, something that entertains?
These aren’t easy questions. They’re not supposed to be. But they are fertile ground for growth. And if you’re willing to answer them – really answer them – then you will walk away from this moment not diminished by it, but transformed by it.
Now, let’s turn to your friend, and what you can do.
If you genuinely value her, there are a few paths forward. One option is to quietly commit to change. Support her more fully. Show her you appreciate her through actions, not just words. Let this moment be a reminder that you have the capacity to undermine the very relationships you hold dear and that you need to watch that impulse – but also remember that you also have the power to choose differently.
But if your gut won’t let you rest, then honesty might be the path to peace. You don’t have to spill every detail. But you can say something like “I’ve been reflecting since the trip and realised that lately, I’ve been operating from a place of stress and insecurity. I caught myself making comments about people – including you – that were unkind, unnecessary and not at all reflective of how I truly feel. I’m ashamed of that, and I’m working on the deeper reasons behind it. Whether or not you heard anything, I wanted to tell you because I care about you, and I don’t want to be someone who talks about their friends like that. I’m sorry. And if you ever catch me doing it again about anyone, call me out.”
Or if you want to deep dive into transparency, you could say something like “I love you, and I need to tell you something hard. One night on the trip, I said some judgmental things about you that I deeply regret. They came from a messy, unkind place in me – not from the truth of how I feel about you, which is full of love and admiration. Whether or not you heard them, I needed to say I’m sorry. I’m working on myself so I never put our friendship in that position again.”
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Whatever you choose, do it fully and wholeheartedly. If you reveal you spoke about her and she didn’t already know, she may be hurt or angry at the revelation and there may be an impact on your friendship in the short or long-term. But on the other hand, if she does know and you don’t say anything, you may be letting some deep damage become irreparable through silence and inaction. At least by leading with honesty rather than cowardice, you create the possibility for a friendship with much more trust, honesty and mutual respect that may be even deeper than before.
Think about who you want to be, and commit to a course of action that feels right. The feelings you are carrying right now aren’t just guilt or anxiety that you betrayed a friend – they’re a sign that you have betrayed yourself. Addressing this situation is an opportunity to become more aligned, more self-aware, and more intentional in your relationships. One mistake, even a sharp and painful one, does not define your worth as a friend. But how you meet the moment after the mistake? That’s where your character truly lives. Befriend it.
