'My friend saw me build my business from scratch. Months later, she betrayed me in the worst way.'

It all started in a mothers' group. I met Claire* when we both had babies strapped to our chests, desperately tired but keen to make connections with other mums. We liked each other right away. She was so lovely and funny, and easy to talk to, which is just what I needed during those chaotic early days of motherhood.

Over the years, Claire and I spent hours chatting in the park while our kids played together, sharing the usual stories about sleepless nights and toilet training. She was always very kind and supportive. I suffer from pretty bad anxiety and Claire would always seem to know when I needed a helping hand, she'd drop over just to hang out with me, which always calmed me down. She never judged me, and I was grateful to have found such a solid friend.

Watch: What type of friend are you? Post continues after video.

My idea to start a business from home came when my son was three. I'd done an extensive silver smithing course years ago and loved making my own jewellery. People always asked me about my unique designs, so I thought it was time to launch a business and sell my work. I'd mentioned to Claire that maybe she could join my business as I grew, as she was very creative and also had a background in marketing.

She was also keen to brainstorm with me and help me with ideas to promote my business. It took a while to get clients, but eventually, I had a great little side hustle which was very satisfying as I was using my creative skills. My price point was always quite high to reflect the time spent making each piece, so I wasn't making a huge amount of money as sales were quite slow.

But one day Claire dropped a bombshell. She told me I'd inspired her to start her own jewellery line, and she'd already hired a designer and was getting ready to launch it. I was stunned. And I was also very surprised she'd been working on this without mentioning it to me. I smelled a rat right away. "I hope it's nothing like mine," I said. She told me not to worry as her designs were very different. I told her I'd love to see some samples. But she wasn't keen on showing me and I soon found out why – when she launched her website, I was horrified to see her range was filled with pieces way too similar to mine, with a few subtle changes here and there.

I phoned her to say I was shocked to see that she'd copied features from several of my designs and even her website looked very similar! She even used the same font in her logo and very similar photography styles.

I felt absolutely stabbed in the back. My designs weren't generic by any means, I'd spent a long time creating unique pieces. To make matters worse, Claire's jewellery was much cheaper than mine. While I focused on high-quality materials and craftsmanship, she had opted for affordability, which meant that it wasn't long before her pieces were being snapped up.

When I confronted her face to face, things turned ugly fast. Claire insisted that she wasn't copying me and claimed her designs were different enough to stand on their own. I told her she had crossed a line, that what she was doing wasn't just unkind, it was unethical. The argument spiralled from there, bringing up every unresolved tension we'd ever had. By the end of it, our friendship was in tatters.

The betrayal didn't stop in the jewellery designs. Claire started mimicking my social media content too. I'd spent months creating a unique brand voice, posting thoughtful captions about the inspiration behind each piece, using certain hashtags, and styling my jewellery with natural backgrounds to reflect the earthy, timeless feel of my work. Then, suddenly, Claire's posts began looking familiar.

She used similar phrases, sometimes just swapping out a few words, and her photography had the same aesthetic; jewellery against leaves, stones, or wooden surfaces, just tweaked enough to avoid direct accusations. I was just mortified. If it had been anyone else, I would have launched legal action.

I messaged her, keeping it direct but firm: "I've noticed you're ripping off my content. Please stop." She didn't respond, but the copying didn't stop either. It felt calculated, like she was daring me to confront her again. Seeing my hard work stolen so shamelessly was a constant, infuriating reminder of how far our friendship had fallen.

What's made everything harder is how intertwined our lives still are. Our husbands are still close friends, and they've made it clear they're not getting involved in our feud. My husband told me they rarely talk about Claire or me when they're together, choosing to keep their friendship separate. "It's not our battle," he said, though I know it weighs on him too.

I've tried focusing on my own business, pouring all my energy into creating new designs and building my brand. And while I'm proud of what I've accomplished, it's hard not to compare myself to Claire. Her lower prices mean she's outselling me, and it hurts every time I see one of her pieces pop up on social media. I very much doubt we will ever repair our relationship. The lovely bond we once had has now been reduced to a rival business and a non-existent friendship.

As told to Ann DeGrey

*Name has been changed for privacy.

The author of this story is known to Mamamia but remained anonymous for privacy purposes.

Feature image: Getty.