I stopped partying and doing drugs three years ago, and it’s been life-changing. I’ve never felt more like myself. In the past, I’d tried to clean up my act, but I always slid back because, well, it was what my best friend and I did. It was our thing.
But this time was different. I stopped for good, focused on building a life I could be proud of, and my confidence has skyrocketed. It’s been amazing—except for one strange, bittersweet twist: my best friend and I are drifting apart.
We’ve been inseparable for over 15 years, sharing everything from stupid inside jokes to wild weekends at festivals and raves. But now, when we hang out, it’s like we’re stuck in a time capsule. All he wants to do is relive those wild nights or plan more of the same—endless festivals, spontaneous road trips fueled by chaos, and nights that blur into mornings. Meanwhile, I’ve moved on.
It hit me hardest the last few times we saw each other. He’d start reminiscing about our “glory days,” laughing about things I barely relate to anymore. I’d try to share what’s exciting me now—like the company I started last year or the goals I’m chasing—but the conversation always circles back to the past. He doesn’t ask much about my life now, and I don’t think he realizes how much I’ve changed.
It feels strange—sad, even—to think about seeing him less. But I want to surround myself with people who reflect who I am today, not who I used to be. People who are building their lives, taking risks, and looking ahead. My best friend will always mean the world to me, but I don’t think we’re on the same path anymore. And as hard as that is to accept, I know I can’t go backward.
Hey there,
First, let me say this: the journey you’re on is one of the hardest, most courageous things you can do. Walking away from the habits and patterns that defined your past—especially when those patterns are deeply tied to relationships—is no small feat. You’ve done something extraordinary, and it’s okay to feel the weight of it.
Now, let’s talk about your friend. Fifteen years is a long time. That’s a bond built on shared experiences, laughter, and loyalty. But here’s the tough truth: sometimes, the person we’ve shared the most history with isn’t meant to walk with us into the future. And that hurts. It’s a grief, plain and simple.
Your friend is still in the life you left behind, stuck in the memories of who you both used to be. But you’re not that person anymore. You’ve grown, changed, and started building a life filled with purpose and excitement. That’s not just okay—it’s good, even when it’s lonely.
It’s also okay to grieve the shift in your friendship. You’re not a bad person for wanting to spend less time with someone who no longer aligns with your values or priorities. That doesn’t mean you don’t love him. It just means you love yourself enough to protect the life you’re building. That’s not selfish—that’s wisdom.
I’d encourage you to sit down with your friend and have an honest conversation. Tell him how much you value the years you’ve shared and how much you care about him. Be real about the changes you’ve made in your life and how those changes have shifted your priorities. He may not fully understand, and that’s okay. What matters is that you communicate with kindness and clarity.
Leave the door open. Let him know you’re rooting for him and that you’ll always be there when he’s ready to grow and change, too. Sometimes people surprise us. Sometimes they don’t. Either way, your job isn’t to drag him forward. Your job is to keep walking your path with integrity and courage.
So, keep going. Surround yourself with people who inspire and challenge you. Keep leaning into the life you’re creating. And remember, it’s okay to love your friend from a distance while you continue to move forward. You’re doing great work—don’t stop now.
You’ve got this.