As told to Ann Degrey
I always regarded my flatmate Mandy* as a good friend.
She was so easy to get along with and seemed to really care about me. I also had a lot of respect for her as she was a survivor; she'd battled breast cancer, lost her parents within a year of each other, and yet, she was always there for others when they were going through a rough time.
When my boyfriend Zac* dumped me last year, she was one of the few people who actually showed up. She listened to me cry and rant, and she went out of her way to make me feel better.
She even booked a weekend away for us so I could take my mind off him. We'd lived together for nearly two years, and she was there for every awful detail of the breakup. Which is why what happened next completely blindsided me.
I'd been dating Zac for about eight months. He was a mutual friend; he and Mandy had known each other for a few years, but he and I didn't get close until we all ended up at the same beach trip and one thing led to another.
Everyone was happy when we started dating, including Mandy.
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The relationship ended when Zac left me for his personal trainer. Yes, his very fit, ten-years-younger trainer who had just had a baby six months prior. (I'm pretty sure he was the father but, so far, haven't been able to confirm this, and maybe I'll never know.)
He swore nothing had happened until after we broke up, but honestly, the timeline was a bit too convenient. One day, he said he needed space to think and the next he was on a couple's holiday with her and the baby. It was devastating for me as well as humiliating.
So when Mandy planned her birthday dinner, I was looking forward to it. The invite said it'd be an intimate group, just a few close friends at a nice place in the city.
I got dressed up and tried to psych myself up for a fun night, as I'd finally started to feel better. I was even talking to someone new online. So, things were moving forward.
Then I got to the restaurant. There were twelve people at the table, and one of them was Zac.
I stopped as soon as I saw him. I walked up to Mandy and asked, "Why is Zac here?" and she said, "Well, I guess I should have warned you. But he's part of the group too. I didn't want to leave anyone out."
I reminded her that he had left me for another woman who had a newborn and that I'd cried on her shoulder for weeks.
"Okay, keep your voice down, why are you causing a scene? I thought it might help you move on if you saw him again," she said.
Move on? I had every right to let her know how upset I was. I barely made it through 15 minutes of her birthday dinner; I sat down, forced a quick hello to him and tried to participate in the small talk, but Zac acted like we were casual friends who'd shared an Uber once, not people who'd shared a bed and talked about getting a dog together.
He told me I looked "really good" and asked me how I was. I just lied and said, "Great" because I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of thinking I pined after him.
Then he told me he and his partner had just returned from a holiday up the coast. I couldn't believe he was rubbing it in like this. Zero empathy for me and my feelings.
A friend of Mandy's stood up and made a toast, so I played along, took a few bites of my entrée and then told Mandy I was too upset to stay and wasn't feeling well. This was technically true, as I felt like I'd just been kicked in the chest.
Mandy looked annoyed but nodded. I got in an Uber and cried all the way home. Seeing him again made me feel worse. I couldn't believe Mandy would be so insensitive.
Then, first thing in the morning, Mandy texted me, saying I'd "killed the vibe" by making things about me. She said it was her night and I should have put things aside for the sake of the group.
So, she framed it like I'd had a tantrum over seeing an old friend, not like I'd been set up to have dinner next to the man who had recently broken my heart.
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We barely spoke for the next week. She gave me the cold shoulder and started hosting loud dinner parties without even telling me. I moved out a month later and, while we're still friends, I won't forget how she treated me, like my feelings weren't relevant. So I'd never trust her again.
I've learned a lot about people this year. About how some friendships are only real when they're convenient. I also realise that healing takes time, and you can't just snap your fingers and make the hurt go away.
You don't owe anyone your silence to keep the peace, even if it's their birthday.
*Names have been changed to protect identities.
Feature Image: Getty. (Stock image for illustrative purposes).
