Un-Enmesh

My Best Friend’s Enmeshment Story – Riza Learned to Love Herself When She Let Go

By: Auria Malaya

August 14, 2017, was the first day of high school. Earning a spot in one of the most competitive high schools in the country meant stepping into an intense, unfamiliar environment. Only ninety students out of thousands in the region were chosen. Amidst the pressure and unfamiliarity, our friend group formed. We found comfort in each other, but two people stood out for being particularly close: Riza and Pete.

From the very first day, they were inseparable. While the rest of us made friends through various hobbies and activities, some through football, 

others through writing or music, Riza and Pete stuck together like a two-in-one promotional duo. They were partners in every school activity, including Alternative Learning Activities, recollections, and outings. If Pete wasn’t going, then neither was Riza, and vice versa. It wasn’t just about convenience; it was a bond that felt unbreakable.

When the pandemic hit, most of us naturally drifted apart, focusing on our personal lives and adjusting to the new normal. But not them. If anything, they grew closer. Riza told us that Pete relied on her heavily, not just academically but emotionally. He depended on her to help him navigate online classes, and as one of the few friends who lived within reach, though still an hour apart, she became his lifeline. They were so close that they ultimately became one person.

Pete and Riza shared the same ideologies, likes, and dislikes, and did everything together. It was difficult to separate them in our minds because they were not just together; they were entwined. I don’t know how to explain it, but their closeness seemed far outside the boundaries of a typical friendship. Riza accompanied Pete to his appointments, and once, she even took him to her nipple piercing session because he was the only one she felt she could trust and who was nearby. When Pete was on the verge of getting kicked out of school, Riza stood by him, helping him find his footing again.

At some point, Riza developed feelings for Pete. It wasn’t surprising. Spending almost every day together, sharing both highs and lows, it was bound to blur the lines. She had an obvious crush on him, and while she never openly confessed, we could tell. Pete, on the other hand, didn’t feel the same. It made him visibly uncomfortable that she had grown attached to him. Yes, he was dependent on her, but not in a romantic way. Still, he never directly turned her down, and so their half friendship with romantic undertones continued. Every time Pete wanted distance, Riza hung on a little tighter, and the more she did, the further away he tried to get. He even became silent.

Looking back, it’s clear now: their friendship had become enmeshed. Riza’s identity started to blend into Pete’s. She deferred to him in almost every decision. She leaned on him emotionally to the point that her well-being depended on his presence. Pete became her constant in a life full of academic stress and emotional uncertainty, and Riza became Pete’s constant, too. However, Pete was not as enmeshed as Riza, and it’s obvious that her enmeshment was more romantic, intertwined with friendship.

Two years after the pandemic, we were finally back in school for our senior year. It felt like a fresh start for everyone. But for Riza and Pete, things picked up exactly where they left off. They had lunch together, worked on projects together, and even spent after-school hours in each other’s company. It seemed like nothing had changed. There were no signs of arguments, no hints that something was about to break.

Then February came, just a few months before graduation. That day is burned into my memory. The classroom was full, but I only saw one thing: Riza, walking in with no makeup, messy hair, and tear-streaked cheeks. If there was one thing Riza never skipped, it was her routine. She was always polished, always composed. Seeing her like that broke something in me, too.

She ran to me and broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. I wrapped my arms around her and asked, “What happened, Riz? You seem different today.” She buried her face into my shoulder and whispered through her tears, “He doesn’t want to talk to me anymore… I… I just don’t know what happened.”

Pete had suddenly cut her off, with no explanation or warning. Sixty people in the classroom seemed to vanish into the background as she cried and clung to me. Over the next few days, she kept crying on and off. She would recall their memories, replay their conversations, and scroll through old photos endlessly. She tried to reach out, but he never responded. The loss of her entangled friendship impacted her physical and mental health. Riza’s appetite faded, she lost weight, and her performance in school slipped. Her appearance changed. Her laughter, once loud and infectious, was now a rare occurrence. It was as if she had lost a part of herself when he wasn’t in her life. Riza had built so much of her life around Pete that when he walked away, she had nothing stable to hold on to.

Our friends did all they could to help her.  We took her on trips, visited islands and tourist spots, and introduced her to new people. We were able to visit all the provinces in our region. We talked more and even had better relationships with our other friends. We reminded her of just how special she is and that she doesn’t need anyone to feel whole. We encouraged her to develop new interests and make more friends. We tried to encourage her to do more things that would instill confidence in herself, rather than relying on someone else. It was hard, and we had to constantly remind ourselves that we couldn’t fill the role that Pete had. No one could or should. Riza had to find herself, and we couldn’t do it for her.

Slowly, she began to smile again. But even then, she’d still bring up Pete, sometimes jokingly, sometimes wistfully. We all drifted apart after high school, each of us going our own way in college. Pete, too, stayed away from the group, avoiding us as much as he avoided her.

Now, two years later, things have changed. Pete occasionally joins our hangouts again, but only if Riza isn’t there. The wound between them was never addressed, never healed. But Riza? She’s grown up so much. She’s strong and independent. She has changed. That friendship breakup hurt more than any romantic breakup she’s ever had. They were more than just friends; they were each other’s entire world. And when that world collapsed, it took a long time to rebuild herself. But she did. With help, with patience, with time, she did.

Riza is now in a new relationship with herself. She learned how to focus on herself and her needs. She is in college and has come out of her shell. She has even joined some pageants. Although we were there to support her and guide her, we had to give her time to heal. Even though we may not be there physically sometimes, she finally understood and loved us, but in a supportive, not enmeshed way.  As her friends, we were always behind her and encouraging her to find herself. Riza no longer relies on anyone for her happiness. She is in love with herself. Her health has improved, her spark has returned, and she’s finally learned to define herself outside of someone else.

This whole experience taught me and all of us that it’s okay to let go of someone who doesn’t value us equally. No matter how deeply we care, no matter how long the history, our lives shouldn’t revolve around one person. Our lives depend on our choices… on who we become, even after losing someone we thought we couldn’t live without.