Have I ever been betrayed by a friend? Yes, I have—and honestly, it’s one of those experiences that changes the way you see people.
It happened during my third year in the university, a time when I still believed friendship meant full access to my life. Back then, I was very open with people I called my friends. I felt like if I trusted you enough to call you that, then I should be able to talk freely around you. I believed real friendship meant being vulnerable, even about things that hurt.
So, I shared parts of my life that weren’t easy to talk about. I told him about my family, especially about how my dad abandoned us. That wasn’t something I went around telling people. It was personal, sensitive, and honestly painful. But I shared it because I believed those words would stay where I put them.
Then something very small happened, but it turned into something much bigger. There was a music box we used in our room, and one day it got damaged. Because I was the last person seen with it, the blame automatically came to me. I tried to explain that I didn’t know how it happened, but he wasn’t interested in listening. He kept accusing me, over and over, like he had already made up his mind.
I got frustrated. Not because of the music box, but because someone who knew me couldn’t even give me the benefit of the doubt. I told him to stop accusing me of something I honestly didn’t do. That’s when things escalated. The argument became heated, voices were raised, and emotions took control.
And then, in the middle of that argument, he brought up the things I had trusted him with. He used my family situation, my pain, my past—things I shared in confidence—as insults. He threw them at me just to hurt me. In that moment, it felt like someone reached into my chest and squeezed my heart.
I wasn’t just angry. I was shocked, hurt and disappointed. I remember thinking, "So this is what you do with someone’s vulnerability?" I felt betrayed in the deepest sense. It hurt so much that I was honestly close to getting into a physical fight with him. My emotions were all over the place, and I didn’t know how to process that kind of pain instantly.
After everything calmed down, I sat with that experience for a long time. And slowly, I realized it had taught me a lesson I probably needed. I learned that not everyone who laughs with you, stays in your room, or calls you “my guy” truly deserves access to your deepest truths. Some people only know how to hold your secrets when things are good. Once things go bad, they use them as weapons.
That experience didn’t even turn me into a cold person, but it made me wiser. I just became more careful about who I open up to.
Thanks for reading.
