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Ellen Page, an 18-year-old college student from Northampton, was hospitalized with Covid last June. “I’ve never felt weaker,” she says. “I couldn’t lift my head from the pillow. I had a hot sweat. It was really scary. During the four days she spent in the hospital, she was comforted by messages from childhood friends. “They all texted me saying, ‘We hope you’re doing better, we wish we could see you.'”
Months later, those same friends started flouting the foreclosure rules. “It started with a few of them posting anti-lockdown tweets, saying everything was fine [to break the rules]because only a small percentage of people died. Still exhausted from being ill, she concentrated on her studies instead. But then Christmas arrived and, with most of the country under Tier 4 restrictions, Page saw his friends throwing parties and posting pictures of them on social media. “They were all gathered in their family homes, with three households together. Then in the evening, new people arrived. It was as if there was no pandemic.
She did not follow them or ignore them on social media, but did not confront them. “I don’t want to argue, I feel like Covid has been fertile ground for arguments.” Yet these friendships are effectively over. “It’s sad because they’ve been an integral part of my life since I was six or seven. But I’ve seen their morality and I don’t want to be friends with people who would put other lives in danger.
As a nation we have become scared and tired – and often we pick on each other. Friends argued for all kinds of reasons related to the pandemic: over rule violations; to be insufficiently attentive to the weekly Zoom; or to always be bored and grumpy. “There’s a lot of frustration right now,” says Mahzad Hojjat of the University of Massachusetts at Dartmouth, co-author of The Psychology Of Friendship. “People may have lost their jobs. They are tired of a pandemic that never seems to go away. The past year has exposed fundamental differences in our values, attitudes and priorities; many of us have seen friends in a new light. “People see their friends breaking the rules as a personal attack,” says Holly Roberts, psychotherapist with the Relate charity.
It wasn’t always like that. At the start of the pandemic, many of us reconnected with friends and acquaintances, or joined Covid-19 self-help groups. Geoff, a 69-year-old retired graphic designer from Cheshire, was one such person. “I created a WhatsApp group among our friends,” he says. “I thought we could share worries and fears and jokes. Within three weeks, I had bailed out my own group. Everything took a turn for the worse when he began to criticize the government’s response to Covid. “I got a comment from a friend saying, ‘We all need to be a little more positive.’” He realized that most of the group only shared photos of baking and weren’t interested in discussing politics. So he checked. “I can make pitta bread now,” he says, “but I’m not interested in sharing a photo of it.”
Since then, Geoff has further distanced himself from his friends, mostly because of what he sees as their liberal interpretation of the foreclosure rules. “These are many seemingly minor incidents that collectively leave my partner and I feeling isolated from the people we thought we had shared our values for for 30 years. I have the impression that we are the only ones who comply. He fell out with a former co-worker over her decision to form multiple supportive bubbles with neighbors (she lives alone). “A bubble suddenly contained 15 people,” he says. “You think, I don’t want to provoke big arguments, but this is madness. Another couple decided to move from a Level 4 area to a Level 2 area, justifying it as “not much” because they weren’t planning on leaving the house much.
Some might think he judges his friends too harshly, but others who have lost loved ones or who are still living with the lingering aftermath of Covid would share his frustration. “The reason Covid is so divisive is that it’s a moral issue,” says Roberts. “If people hang out with others and spread the virus, it’s dangerous. It can be hard for people to accept their friends behaving this way, and when you lose someone’s respect, it’s hard to come back. Like Page, Geoff has avoided challenging his friends. People are getting defensive, he says. “They answer you. You think, OK, I’ll back off.
Roberts advises you to be cautious if you confront a friend about illegal behavior. “The main thing is to try not to be accusatory,” she says, “or to shame someone. Everyone has their own situation and deals with things in different ways. Start by saying, “I’m letting you know how your behavior affects me, and I’d love to hear your point of view. You can have a conversation rather than a shouting match. Hojjat advises calmly and carefully, referring to the bigger picture and the effect their actions might have on vulnerable people. “Explain that it is not just about a person’s behavior. is a public health problem. “
That said, it’s not always worth the effort to get started with friends. “You should make a distinction between long-term friendships that you really cherish and acquaintances,” Hojjat says. If you’ve been friends since elementary school, for example, “you should think twice about breaking this friendship and trying to work things out. But if these are people you’re not that close to, it may be easier to move on. “
Of course, such conversations only work if both parties accept the reality of the pandemic. Trying to engage sensibly with your conspiracy theorist friend can only be deeply frustrating. Edward Farrow, a 47-year-old banking communications employee from Rochester, fell out with a childhood friend over his anti-foreclosure views. “Block it [on social media] was not a decision I made lightly. But he tweets this extraordinarily dangerous thing that is not supported by any evidence.
Friends since school, the two men had followed a similar path until adulthood. They met regularly for drinks when they both lived in London; and after Farrow left town, he kept in touch online. Farrow knew his friend was an annoyance by nature. “He’s always had this propensity,” he says. “But I liked him to challenge me sometimes, and we would have some interesting debates.”
Now, when Farrow tried to challenge his opinion that Covid was a hoax, he grew in a bad mood. “He told me that he was ‘disappointed in me’ to have been carried away by this ‘propaganda’. He has become quite aggressive. After sharing a tweet from Laurence Fox urging the public take off their masks and gather in groups, Farrow blocked it, thus ending a friendship of more than 30 years. Sometimes he thinks about trying to de-radicalize his old friend, but there doesn’t seem to be any reason. “It wouldn’t go anywhere,” Farrow said. “And I would lose my mind.”
And of course, conspiracy theorists are likely to feel as distant from their friends as people whose opinions are based on reality. Fatima, a 28-year-old London account manager, is spreading disinformation about Covid online. “At the end of the day, it’s a cold,” she tells me. “The death rate is not as extreme as people make it appear. Many people [who died of Covid] were destined to die [anyway]. “
When she shared these views with her best friend from school in April, the relationship weakened. “It was like I was a stranger to her, or a traitor. She said, “Why do you think so? She doesn’t call me that much. I would love to stay friends with her. Hopefully when Covid is over we can talk about it face to face.
Many people I spoke to shared a sense of loss, even grief, realizing that the people they had been friends with for decades might not be anymore. “I avoid going to places where I might run into them,” Page says of his old friends. “I don’t want to have to do a conversation, and I absolutely don’t want to chat. I keep myself to myself. Geoff is worried about what will happen when normal life returns. “My real concern is how comfortable I will feel to see these friends again. How am I going to continue with people once this is over? “
Some fractures will be irreparable. If there’s someone in your life you can’t respect anymore, advises Roberts, tell them – kindly. “Ghost images are horrible,” she says. “Do not do that. Tell them that they are doing something that you don’t agree with and that you choose to end the friendship. She also advises us to remember that, for those lucky enough to survive the pandemic, Covid will one day be a distant memory. “Take a step back,” she advises, “and remember why you became friends with this person in the first place. Everyone’s emotions are heightened at this time. Maybe in a few months you will be able to reestablish a relationship, when you feel a little more positive and the pressures of lockdown are gone. If you can save a friendship, do it. You might need it on the other side.
Some names have been changed.
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