Jayne Whyte's Portfolio

Hello!

It was hard for me to put my feelings into words, but after a long conversation with myself, I have decided to let it all out and express myself, hoping to find some relief. I am so glad I have this space to do that.

Lately I have battled with myself, my friendships, relationships and situationships, and while I find myself grieving at some, I find some easy not to bother at all. It is life after all. Over the weekend, I thought hard about what had changed in me; was it all my fault? Or was it change? I may need to move, grow or feel something else. We are designed to move.

We often grieve the slow fade of a close friendship, wondering what went wrong. The truth is, many friendships don’t end with a dramatic blow-up, but with a silent, mutual surrender to the weight of unacknowledged responsibilities. I have my thoughts on three areas where I think are pointers for how friendships wither.

We fear the responsibility of initiating the challenging conversation, and this is a massive deal for me. While I am not a big talker, I truly value ‘talking it out. I want to understand, and I am open to hearing your perspective. But we see that it’s easier to let a slight fester than to say, “Hey, what you said hurt me.” We avoid the vulnerability required, the risk of conflict, and the emotional labour of navigating the fallout. We tell ourselves it’s not a big deal until the accumulation of unsaid things becomes a wall between you.

We fear the responsibility of showing up for the un-fun parts, and this is the ugly side of relationships. Celebrations are easy; true friendship is proven in the trenches. It’s the 10 pm phone call when their world is falling apart, helping them make life-changing decisions, and without judging them, or listening to them process a breakup for the third time. This requires a selflessness that can feel inconvenient, pulling us from our own curated lives.

We fear the responsibility of active, not passive, maintenance. In our teens and twenties, friendship is often built on proximity. Most of my friends lived in the same city as I did, but as adult lives expand with careers, partners, and children, proximity vanishes. It becomes harder to connect, and the work then falls to us to schedule the call, plan the trip, and bridge the growing distance with deliberate effort. It’s easier to assume the friendship is “strong enough” to survive on autopilot. It rarely is.

Ultimately, there is the fear that this work won’t be reciprocated, and yes, it could fall on you to take this huge responsibility. I have now realised that the beautiful, unspoken contract of lasting friendship is the mutual courage to take on these very duties. It’s the choice to be the architect, not just the tenant, of the relationship. The next time you feel a friendship slipping, ask yourself: which responsibility am I afraid to pick up? The bravest thing you can do is reach out and take action.

On the other hand, it is okay sometimes and even necessary not to be the one always taking on the massive load of being responsible for the work of friendship. A one-sided dynamic is not a friendship; it is an unpaid, unappreciated job.

I will write more about this on the other side in my next post.

P.S. Photos are from my last trip to Kirkwall, Orkney.

Cheers.