We Need To Talk (Yes, Even In Friendships)

Why awkward talks with friends matter, and simple ways to navigate them.

Illustration by Author (Limited prints available to buy here)

This one’s about being human with your friends, saying the hard things, surviving the awkward, and maybe getting closer because of it…

Friendships could be so much stronger if we just communicated properly.

And yet, so many end because we don’t.

I’ve lost incredible friendships through poor communication. Others, which probably needed to end anyway, ended badly, simply because things were left unsaid.

We talk endlessly about communication in romantic relationships: being open, meeting each other’s needs, choosing honesty. But when it comes to friendships? We often don’t bother.

We give up when the going gets tough.

We make up excuses for not reaching out, declining an invite, rather than just telling the honest truth.

We don’t communicate well in friendships at all and it baffles me because if we did, I am absolutely, 100% positive that we’d feel more connected.

And I’m not saying it’s easy! Of course it isn’t. Communication is damn hard. It’s awkward. Messy. Uncomfortable.

But if we got better at it, even just a little, our friendships would be stronger for it.

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Why Don’t We Communicate in Friendships?

One big reason is that friendships don’t come with the same “rules” as romantic relationships. There’s no sense of obligation, it doesn’t feel as “serious” and because of that, we often let ourselves off the hook. We don’t feel like we owe our friends honest communication, so we avoid it.

And of course, there’s the awkwardness.

Without the built-in expectation of truth-telling that comes with a relationship, it’s all too easy to dodge difficult conversations.

I watched Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders recently (yes, that’s my kind of thing), and the women choosing the team talked about a year when they didn’t pick the choreographer’s daughter. She was crushed, and didn’t speak to them for a year.

It sounded kind of petty and immature, as if they were back in school. But the choreographer explained that all she wanted was a phone call. Not special treatment for her daughter, just a courtesy explanation.

All it would’ve taken was a conversation. And we can understand why they didn’t bother, right? It would’ve been excruciatingly painful. Opening themselves up to potential confrontation, having to stumble over their words and explanations. So instead of opening their mouths, they avoided it… and consequently made it worse.

That same pattern shows up everywhere. I heard a story about two close friends falling out, because one didn’t pick the other as a bridesmaid. The bride already had lots of school friends lined up, but instead of communicating the understandable reason why she wasn’t picked, she avoided it. Bridesmaids came up at dinner but never the direct words. Cue a heated text exchange, no in-person talk, and a broken friendship that really didn’t need to end.

Why wasn’t there just a conversation? I can only assume the answer — because it would’ve been super uncomfortable.

And I’m not really an avoidant person when it comes to discussing difficult things but I also struggle to communicate difficult things to friends.

And the irony is, I’ve been sat telling this story about how ridiculous it is when people don’t communicate… and I suddenly realised, “Oh wait. I’ve done that too.”

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Maybe We Fear Being Too Much

It’s not just external barriers though, it’s the internal ones too.

Like the emphasis we put on our friendships being full of lightness/fun, which makes honesty harder than in romance.

We expect a certain degree of lightness, and a low level of seriousness. And to some degree, I agree with this. We should be able to have fun with our friends.

But the pressure to keep it all easy-breezy-lemon-squeezy can massively undermine the depth of the friendship.

Part of this, I think, is the fear of being “too much”, or at least it is for me, the sensitive soul that I am. Because we feel like we have to be this chilled out version of ourselves in order to maintain our friendships, to be liked.

Too sensitive. Too dramatic. Too over the top. What if we scare them off?

The risk feels too heavy, sometimes. And heavier again, than in relationships. Because if I tell my husband I’m not happy with how he acted about something, he’s not going to break up with me (it’d be pretty out of order if he did).

And if I tell my husband that I need space, he’ll probably give it to me. I feel safe in that.

And there we have it — safety. Safety comes from communicating better, not from avoiding it.

We need to feel safe to say the uncomfortable thing, but it doesn’t just appear out of nowhere. It’s built, bit by bit, by how we respond to each other. If your friend admits they’re struggling and you don’t flinch, if they cancel because they’re drained and you don’t guilt-trip them, that’s how safety grows. And the more safety there is, the more likely both people are to be honest.

And it has to be mutual. It’s not just about you speaking up, it’s about showing your friend you can handle their honesty too.

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What Happens When You Do Speak Up

I’ve had friends in the past who have disappeared on me with no explanation and the trouble is, when we don’t tell a friend what is going on, how the hell are they supposed to know it?

That’s why communication matters. And I learned it the hard (but good) way.

I had a friendship which turned completely one-sided. I’d had enough. We met up for dinner and I ended up saying (in a slightly trembly, nervous voice mind you), that I’d felt sad about it, and that I didn’t feel like friendships which required me to put in all the effort, worked. I needed balance.

To my surprise, the friend listened and then explained what had been going on for them, and I left that conversation feeling lighter than I had in months.

It was terrifying to be that honest. But it also gave me peace because I’d spoken my truth, in a kind way, and I’d given them the chance to respond. Ultimately, I could walk away knowing I’d tried.

They actually ended up upping their effort, instigating a bit more. Honestly, a lot of people wouldn’t.

That’s the thing about openness: it creates safety. Being upfront with my friend about how I felt, gave them the chance to respond honestly too.

And herein lies another massive thing I’ve learnt, which is that communication isn’t just about getting something off your chest; it’s about making it safe for both people to share.

Relationships are about hearing both sides of the story, so let’s do that in friendships too.

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How Do You Do It?

Recently, I’ve had a lot of the same conversation with people about space. Expecting someone to reach out. Miscommunication.

A friend messaged me once in response to me asking when she was next around, saying that she was going through some things, and wasn’t in a great place for meeting up. She said she’d let me know when she wanted to.

That situation is hard, because if you’re like me then you really don’t want to give your friend space. You want to be there for them, to give support, to help them. Often, you want to fix their problem. But here’s the thing, if they’ve asked for space, give them space. That’s them communicating their needs, even if you don’t like the sound of it.

I still offered support in this scenario and honestly, I don’t know if I could’ve handled the situation better, or if I handled it as well as I could’ve done.

But I think my friend there is a stellar example of communicating the need for space, boundaries, with care and respect. If she just hadn’t responded I might’ve panicked, worried about her, the friendship. I appreciated that so, so much from her.

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So How Do We Actually Get Better?

Talk about styles. Ask your friend how they like to communicate. Text? Calls? Sporadic but deep chats? Regular check-ins? Make sure to say how you like to communicate too. Find a common ground.

Leading with feelings, not blame if you do have to have hard conversations. “I feel hurt when…” rather than “You never…”

Be vulnerable. Even if it’s awkward. Even if your voice shakes. Honesty and vulnerability invites others to be the same.

Treating friendships as actually serious. They deserve the same care and courage that we give to relationships.

And always, always lead with kindness.

One of my best friendships works because of this. She and I are opposites: when she’s low, she isolates; when I’m low, I talk more. But we’ve had that conversation. We’ve explained how each of us is wired, and we’re okay with it.

I respect her space and don’t take it personally if she’s less responsive now. And she will send me little messages to say she’s thinking of me even if she doesn’t want to get into a full conversation. We meet each other halfway.

I love that friendship.

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It Won’t Always Work Out, But When It Does…

The truth is, it won’t always work out.

You can communicate as honestly and kindly as possible, and sometimes the other person just won’t (or can’t) meet you there. I’ve learnt that the hard way, many times over. And it’s usually your cue to either let go, or at least create some distance.

But when it does work? When someone meets you in that space of honesty, respect, and care, that’s the kind of friendship you hold onto.

That’s the good stuff.

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Thank you for reading!

I’d love to know… have you had a friendship that survived awkward honesty?

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