A friend and I have been having offshoots of the same conversation for the past 6 months or so: the conversation about friends, acquaintances, or chosen family members who are abusive. No, I don’t mean overtly abusive, the way the popular imagination sets up abusive partners. I don’t mean someone who is a walking red flag, a person about whom we never have to write Dear Prudence. The type of person I’m talking about specifically is not-so-sinister. They are half-jokingly invested in telling less than flattering things about themselves: they come from dysfunction, are predisposed to substance abuse, or can never keep money in their bank accounts. They don’t like people, but they loooooove you. She’s quick to tell you, “I’m not for everyone’s consumption,” as if this is not the case for all humans. He jumps at the opportunity to declare the type of dude he is, and you just have to deal with it. These people aren’t insufferable at all. Not at first, and not all the time.

Abuse, in larger conversations, is usually characterized as something families and romantic partners do. What about friends? Bosses and colleagues? Clients? What resources are available to folks whose lives are being fucked with by someone who, by societal standards, shouldn’t be “able” to do so? It’s one hell of a corner to be backed into. It isn’t easy to remove yourself from a situation where someone you love, trust, and cherish treats you poorly. There is a social stigma attached to withstanding abusive friendships that echoes that of abusive romantic relationships: you, the survivor/ victim, let it happen. You didn’t do enough, you didn’t accurately sense danger, you wanted a friend so bad that you allowed someone to trample all over you. Shame on you. Right? There’s no widespread or growing pushback about victim blaming here. At least, not that I’ve seen. Conversations about abusive non-partners often get lumped together: bosses/ friends/ families of origin. Sort it out on your own, or with your therapist. This is not helpful. It contributes to the isolation experienced by survivors of abusive friendships. In my opinion and experience, it’s because these friendships are categorized as toxic. They aren’t sufficiently named. The word toxic doesn’t have the same connotation as abusive. Toxic suggests that a situation or substance might eventually kill you, possibly without your noticing. Abusive, on the other hand, makes it plain: this is dangerous and unsustainable.

It’s become pretty apparent to me that, in this age of Googling the resources you need, there’s not quite enough for those of us who’ve had abusive friends. That is to say, I like what I see, and want to see more. I want more nuanced conversations that involve folks’ intersections and experiences. I want the spaces where we do this healing work to be inclusive in ways that are tangible to and meaningful for survivors/ victims. I don’t want the mirroring of faulty transformative justice practices. I want and seek to create practices that identify how we keep ourselves safe, and don’t rely on abusers’ participation to make us so.

There is no shame in having survived an abusive friendship. There is no harm in processing your experiences, and taking from them the skills you need in order to have happier, healthier dealings with the people in your life. There’s no need to wait for your favorite blogger to talk about it. There may never be a perfect book to reference. Do you wanna have the conversation? Have it. Don’t wait on anyone to do it for you.

We’ll die waiting.