Sometimes, the people you’d move mountains for are the same ones who hand you a shovel and expect you to dig. I realized this at 35, standing in my best friend’s kitchen, staring at a chore chart with my name at the very top. Claire and I have been best friends since university over ten years of support, video calls, and visits. I had flown out for her wedding and both of her children’s births, so when she announced another pregnancy, I didn’t hesitate to offer my help.
We made a plan I would fly to New York, stay two weeks, and support her through labor and recovery. I was genuinely excited, thinking this was what true friendship looked like. But the moment I arrived, something felt wrong. Claire surprised me with news of a scheduled C-section the next morning, which I accepted without hesitation.
The real shock came a few days later when she handed me a paper detailing my “duties” cleaning, cooking, school runs, and laundry while her husband took paternity leave to “recover,” which really meant hanging out with friends and binge-watching Netflix. I felt exploited. I hadn’t flown halfway across the world to be their unpaid nanny. So, I booked a flight back home.
Claire cried, called me selfish, blocked me days later, then sent one last message: “You abandoned our friendship when I needed you most.” But the truth was, that friendship had already been abandoned I just hadn’t realized it until I was handed a to-do list and expected to be grateful. Three months later, I still miss the Claire I knew but I don’t miss proving my worth to people who only see what I can give. True friendship doesn’t come with guilt trips or chore charts.