Preeti had always been the queen bee of her college friend group—the planner, the leader, the one they all seemed to rely on. She chose the cafés, the road trips, and even the music they listened to on their weekend outings. It made her feel special, needed, like she held the group together. But as time went by, Preeti noticed something unsettling: her friends weren’t responding the same way they used to.
One Friday, she sent a text to their group chat. “Let’s hit the new rooftop café on MG Road tomorrow!” She waited, picturing the flood of excited replies. But instead, there was silence. Hours went by. Finally, Ritu replied, “We were actually planning to catch a movie instead. Everyone’s already in.”
Preeti’s heart sank. They planned this without me? She forced a smile onto her face, her fingers flying over her phone screen. “Movies are so impersonal,” she typed quickly. “How about we stick to the café? It’ll be more fun!”
But her message was met with a painful silence. Her friends, it seemed, had made their choice, and for the first time, she wasn’t the one making it.
The next day, scrolling through social media, Preeti’s heart clenched as she saw her friends’ pictures at the movies, laughing and tagging each other—without her. She felt betrayed, hurt, and furious. That night, her mind whirled, and her anxiety only grew worse. Hadn’t she done everything for this group? Was this how they repaid her loyalty?
Determined to set things right, Preeti invited everyone over for a “game night” at her place the following weekend. She planned everything meticulously: snacks, board games, music, and even a little speech about how “important” their friendship was. She would remind them of her role as the glue that held them together.
To her relief, they all agreed to come. But as the evening unfolded, she noticed Ritu and the others whispering to each other, often throwing her quick, awkward glances.
Unable to contain her curiosity, she finally confronted Ritu in the kitchen. “Alright, what’s going on?” she demanded, trying to laugh it off but feeling a knot of dread forming in her chest.
Ritu hesitated, then sighed. “Preeti, we came because we didn’t want to hurt you, but… you’re always controlling everything. We feel like we don’t even get a say anymore. It’s like, if things aren’t exactly how you want, you make us feel guilty. It’s exhausting.”
Preeti’s face went pale. She stammered, “I… I was just trying to keep us all together…”
“We don’t need to be controlled to stay together, Preeti,” Ritu said softly. “Sometimes, we just want to make our own plans, have our own say.”
Desperate and panicking, Preeti couldn’t hold back anymore. “If that’s how you all feel, maybe you don’t really care about this friendship at all!” she snapped, her voice shaking with anger and hurt. She turned and left the kitchen, slamming the door behind her.
The night ended awkwardly, and the silence afterward was deafening. Days passed, and Preeti heard nothing from her friends. Feeling a mix of guilt and loneliness, she tried messaging them again, but the group chat was eerily quiet. Her worst fears seemed to be coming true—she was being shut out.
A week later, she bumped into Ritu at a café, and though she tried to avoid her, Ritu saw her and approached. Preeti braced herself for another confrontation, but what Ritu said surprised her.
“Preeti, we miss you,” Ritu said, looking genuinely sad. “But if this friendship is going to work, you have to trust us too. Let go a little. Just be with us, instead of managing us.”
Preeti felt a lump in her throat. She took a deep breath and admitted, “I was scared… scared that if I didn’t keep things under control, you’d all drift away.”
Ritu smiled gently. “Friendship isn’t about control, Preeti. It’s about letting people choose to stay.”
It hit her like a punch in the gut. All this time, she had been clinging out of fear, not trust. She had created a prison of control that was pushing her friends away. The irony was almost painful: the more she tightened her grip, the more they slipped through her fingers.
That evening, Preeti sent a message to the group chat: “I’m sorry. From now on, I’m just going to show up and enjoy, no controlling, no planning. Let’s be real friends.”
To her relief, messages started flooding in, her friends
forgiving her, welcoming her back. She smiled, feeling lighter than she had in
years. For the first time, she realized that she didn’t have to control her
friends to keep them close. Letting go felt like the ultimate freedom.