Broke Up With My BFF and Now She Says She's Suing Me
Waking up from a midday nap, I open YouTube on my phone to get me going, in hopes I’ll make it from my bed to my desk and do some writing. Shortly into my well-curated suggestion page scroll, a video by TED-Ed catches my eye, How Friendship Affects Your Brain.
The educational video goes into how the adolescent brain forms particularly special friendships because of “changes in the way you value, understand, and connect to friends.”
In my adolescent years, I was too wounded, and as a result, guarded, to allow this magic of neurology to do its thing for relationships then. Now, as a maturing, healing 20-something, I’ve been making up for it, really deepening connections with people in my life.
I take friendship seriously.
Coming across this video about how friendship affects the human brain is on the heels of a recent breakup with a friend. Yeah, I like science, but the timing may also have something to do with why it caught my eye.
Related: Bestie Breakups Are Worse Than Breaking Up with a Boyfriend… Here’s How Separating From a Friend is Similar to Separating From a Romantic Partner (I haven’t written this yet, but the points have played out in my mind and it deserves its own moment on my soapbox)
We really broke up some months ago, days after being together for our mutual girlfriend’s birthday. (And really, we’d already started silently shifting apart a couple of months before that.) But, it’s the exchange we had a few days ago, after not talking for four months, that’s brought her, and this endless series of debacles with her, to the front of my mind.
This darn girl told me, “I’ll see you in court.”
A slight grin comes across my face as I close my eyes and shake my head at how completely laughable this is. Let me run it back for y’all.
A girl that once called me her bestfriend is now saying she’s going to sue me. Here’s the story.
The funny part is, this threat of litigation can’t be for a claim much over a hundred bucks. But child, we’ll get there.
First, meet Pea.
⁺Peahendra, called Pea for short, is a single mother of 3 living on the outskirts of a capital city in the South. She regards the man that fathered her children as the biggest mistake of her life, still holding strongly to the belief that if it weren’t for him ruining her early 20s, she would’ve reached Internet stardom and been a million-dollar baby mama. These are not secrets, nor private desires. These are facts she’ll gladly tell you upon introducing herself, before even saying her zodiac sign (and we all know how early that comes into conversation these days).
In a video compilation my sis put together of a few people wishing me happy birthday last year, Pea restated a sentiment she’d shared with me on multiple occasions, “this has been one hell of a journey for you and I… I’m forever thankful for meeting you when I did, I do wish it could’ve been sooner, ‘cause you know we would’ve been [does upward hand motion]... but I hope we continue this journey.” Basically saying we would’ve been up.
Since becoming girlfriends, Pea began experiencing the experiences she always desired: getting flewed out, traveling out of or across the country regularly, shopping luxury designer, being in close quarters with famous and/or wealthy men, and so forth. She believes if we would’ve joined forces, so-to-speak, sooner, her therealkylesister-type career would’ve catapulted by now. (Her telling me these things, where she could’ve been in life had we met sooner, was her Peahendra way of saying “thank you for being the great friend that you are to me,” she’s just never been one to say it in those words.) I was there to facilitate these opportunities to put her on that track. My role as a friend to her was to boost her up, to support her, and as long as it wasn’t hurting me, I didn’t mind playing that role because I love loving on people.
What’s that TikTok audio, I’m going to be JaydaWayda? Yeah, that’s Pea.
One of Pea’s favorite self-reassuring remarks to make when we’d be on FaceTime, sometimes group FaceTime with the mutual girlfriend that introduced us, talking about our future plans was, “all a n**** gotta do is see me.”
That was it. That was her plan for success, a man laying eyes on her. Drake would lay eyes on her and POOF! BOOM! PIE-YOW! She’d be carrying his seed and that seed would take care of her and the children she already had. And all I had to do was put her in the room for it to happen. …So, I put her in the room. [shoulder shrugs]
Now, look. I know what you may be thinking… I used to think that way too. Every woman needs to have her own, make her own, do something with herself, and never put her efforts at getting ahead into getting a man.
Even our mutual girlfriend said it on group FaceTime before, “girrrrrl, all this energy you put into getting a man with a bag, you can go get your own bag!”
Related: Hypergamy is Encouraging Women to “Date Up”
Yes, back in the gap I used to preach against these golddigging hoes, sharing posts on my InstaStory, then my best guy friend made a good point in a reply one day. “T.K., not every girl can make it without being a hoe.” Of course I had a rebuttal, knowing good and well he was making some sense, causing us to debate on the topic, but I eventually understood where he was coming from.
Jemele Hill made it from her brains, but some of these hoes have to make it from their butts. Calvin wasn’t applauding, nor looking down on either, he was only highlighting the fact that there’s a role in society for everyone. Hey, somebody’s gotta be the garbage man.
Pea helped me to be less of a prude and opened up my perception. These are real goals and desires, even though they look a lot different than my own.
Related: Not All Attractive Girls in L.A. Are Gold-Digging Hoes
At least being a cute girl having a life goal to land a rich man isn’t as improbable as banking on getting drafted to the NFL when you’re 5th string at a D3 school.
Becoming a ⁺⁺Jayda or Ari of the world is not that unrealistic when you’re an above-average attractive, youthful woman.
Peahendra is as pretty as, if not prettier than, majority of the women I’ve seen walking around Beverly Hills that have bagged ballers. In addition to smooth caramel skin and a nice grain of red hair, her defined jawline and high cheekbones combine for a face that’ll make a man doubletake. She also has a naturally nice body, flaunting a waist that goes in with hips that go out, giving her that highly sought after coke bottle shape. And that’s only her at the bare bones.
Honestly, she has what it takes to be a major headturner, especially if we throw in all the additions these InstaThotties do (full glam makeup, hair extensions touching their tails, overly branded drip, shiny jewels, etc.) to draw more attention to themselves. And this admirable description is coming from a person that has her blocked on everything, so you know I’m not lying out of bias. Though I want nothing to do with her, I can’t lie and say she’s not an extremely good-looking girl.
Seeing her potential, and seeing that there are rich men that actually want a bimbo to depend on them, I didn’t too much mind setting up these situations for her to climb. It’s a whole strategic game to this madness, child, I somewhat enjoy a close-up seat without having to be in it. I rather not give up game, but I hope I’ve explained enough for you to get the jist of it.
I figured the more I could give her what she wants, the happier I could make her, the better person she’d become, then the better friend she’d be to me. Yeah, early on she showed signs of selfishness and lack of care and consideration for anyone other than herself, but maybe she wasn’t a good friend to others because no one had shown her how to be a good friend by being one to her. [swoosh] Here goes me with my cape, ready to be Captain Save-A-Hoe.
Ou, I’m right over 1400 words here and my goal is 2000/day. Aye! Let’s see if we can wrap this up in under 600 words, shall we?
Long story short, after not having spoken for months, Pea contacted me via iMessage using a different email address, one that wasn’t saved to her contact (therefore not blocked), saying to let her know how much it would be to ship her “stuff” she’d left in my possession over a year and a half ago. Child, she need not hold her breath, because… IKYFLTM!
Last May, a gentleman caller of mine wanted to see me.
Thick as thieves, talking every day all throughout the day, Pea was abreast of any situation I had, so naturally, as he started making requests for my time, she knew.
If Pea can benefit, she’s interested; if she can’t, she doesn’t want to be bothered. (Basically, any male suitor of mine that had it within his wheelhouse to do something for her, whether it be an experience or a connection, she was for, even if I had no interest in him, she’d convince me why I should. Uhnt uhn, girl, that’s so-and-so’s manager, that could put me closer to so-and-so, just talk to him! And what would my duck a** do? Yep.) She was aware that this was seemingly a man of means, means enough for the both of us, so she’s all, “ouuuu, I’m down for New York!” I kind of giggle, but figure, why not?! If it’s within my reach to do something for someone that I consider a friend, that I know that friend wants, why not do it?!
If you can’t fly my friend out with me, I can’t come.
Now, ain’t that some sh*t?!
I told the man that wanted to see me in New York that even though we’d met in-person and been conversing, I still didn’t know him well enough to come on his turf, where I knew no one, all by my lonesome, just so my friend could come. “Would you want your daughter to fly across the country to go hangout by herself with some man that she doesn’t know that well?!” Let me be quiet, I’m giving y’all too much game. But, it’s really not game, it’s the truth. Maybe I watched too much Law & Order: SVU with Granny, but naw, you ain’t bouta slice me up and leave me on a back street in one of them burroughs for Olivia Benson to try to figure out what happened.
He understood my safety concern and offered for him to come to me in Los Angeles instead. Of course staying at my house, or even knowing my address, wasn’t an option this early on in getting to know one another. He said he’d rent a place for himself to stay and I could meet up with him aroundLA as my schedule permitted. This would’ve been perfectly convenient for me, not having to miss any work or anything, but Pea quickly reminded me this wasn’t about me. “Uhnt uhn, New Yorrrrrrrk!”
After talking to him quite some bit more, he finally conceded.
He told me to go ahead and book flights for me and my girl and he’d put the money back in my account. I guess this was his way of seeing if I was a broke b**** that would be choked up by this. I wasn’t. I was cool as a feather, as if two stacks gone from my account made no difference. “Girl, what are you going to do if he doesn’t give you the money back?!,” Pea exclaimed in wonder as days passed. I said I’d cancel the flights. “Oh no, don’t do that, we’re going to New York! We. Are. Going! Don’t worry, he’ll probably give it back to you in cash, in person.” She definitely wasn’t forking over a dime.
And wait, can you believe as I’m coordinating flights for us, flying from different starting points being that we live in different states, trying to make it work to where we land around the same time, a time good for him to pick us up, this girl had the nerve to say, “don’t give me a layover. I need direct flights in both directions.” Girl, you gon’ getcho raggedy a** on whatever tf flight you on. Ughhhh! I just remembered that as I’m typing this. That’s the first thing that comes out of your mouth? Not “ayeeee, thanks biiiiiiitch”? Something?? Nothing?!
Anyway, let me move on, because the tangents I could go on ‘bout this one… whew!
We’re in New York and I brought a pair of Celine shades she’d asked me for. I told her I’d broken my black Tom Ford shades, that’s why she’d seen me wearing tf out of these black Celine’s, so while she holds onto these, let me hold onto her black Versace shades, that way I could still have a pair of black shades. Cool, we swap black shades.
A month prior, April 2021, she had come to L.A., staying as a guest in my home, as always. I’m not even about to try to go back and count the number of times she’d traveled this way since our first link up in fall 2018. Her visits to L.A. were never for me, or any reason in particular other than to see what she could get into.
L.A. is where the celebrities frolic.
L.A. is where the trappers and the rappers hang. L.A. is where the ballers ball. L.A. is where the rich n***** do rich n**** s***. And if you’re a somewhat decent-looking girl with a passable personality, who happens to be at the right place at the right time, it’s not difficult to get into any of that. Pea made frequent trips to L.A. in hopes to get into all of that. I was about to say, I did what I could to fulfill those hopes, but let’s cut the modesty… I made it happen. I can’t think of an L.A. dream she dreamt that I didn’t facilitate coming into fruition.
Oh, you want to be treated to fine dining in Beverly Hills? Done.
Oh, you want to take shots with an NBA player at his private mansion party? Done.
Oh, you want to walk down Rodeo Drive and have a random dude buy you designer shoes? Done.
Oh, you want to be inside of Delilah, when it’s closed to the public, partying with Drake? Done.
None of these examples are made up. And I could go on and on, but y’all get the point. I made sh*t happen.
Side note: Some of you may be aware, but I’d guess most of you are not – there are women that “curate lifestyle experiences”, like what I did for Peahendra, and collect a fee for their services. They are modern day madam’s. I was not aware of this phenomenon until living in L.A., being in various spaces, exposed to various persons… and I really couldn’t ignore it after listening to an episode of a podcast called Trappin’ Anonymous where the host, @Christylezz, interviews an admitted madam! Child, that’s another blog post for another day. Anyway… I want to be clear, though I seem to have the skillset and connections to be a madam, I am not a madam. I’m chuckling because as I read this part of me and Pea’s story back, it’s giving madam, but baby, ya girl had no financial gain from none of that. Every position I set Peahendra up in was purely out of love.
Being that Pea wasn’t in L.A. for me, it wasn’t mandatory that I clear my schedule to be with her the entire time, every single time.
If there was a gig on the table that I rather not resist, I’d make sure she was good and go handle my business. One of the times that I had a prior engagement, I suggested Pea go entertain herself at The Grove. She came back to my house with a shopping bag from Nordstrom and asked what I thought about the two-piece set she’d bought. Though it was cute, she said she really didn’t have that to spend. (She really didn’t have the money for a trip to L.A. at the time, but she said she needed a break from mom life, and she knew once she got to me that pretty much everything else would be taken care of.) “Yeah, 80 dollars?! For this? Uhnt uhn. I mean, I can afford it, but I also could do something else with my money,” she continues to verbalize her buyer’s remorse. While still here in L.A., she wears it once with the tags tucked in, then decides for sure that she can do without it. “T.K., return it for me, then Zelle me the money,” Pea says to me on her last day as she’s packing to leave. “Girl, you better take that home with you,” I respond very clearly letting her know that I will not be making a trip to Nordstrom just to return something for her (that she knew she didn’t want and had time to return herself). “Well, you don’t want it?” she giggles. “Girl, don’t leave that here,” I reiterate. “Ugh! Ima just leave it here,” she ignores me, “remind me to deal with it when I come back to L.A.”
SuperBowl LVI came to L.A. the following February, so you know my girl was on the first thing she could be on out here.
Ballers outside = Peahendra outside.
(I ain’t mad at it! How serious are you about your craft if you aint?!)
One trait I did appreciate about Pea is that she owned her sh*t. She wasn’t trying to be one of these girls hiding behind a bundle business or philanthropy front, those are the ones that vex me. My girl Pea was always honest about what she wanted to be, an ⁺⁺⁺RNB.
Before she could even roll her carry-on across my door seal good, I was reaching beside my big brown armoire and grabbing that Nordstrom bag with that two-piece set inside it the same way she left it. “Girl, I don’t want that sh*t,” she swats at the bag like it’s a fly. I’m no neat freak, but I keep a pretty decent house; no need for that bag to sit in the corner of my bedroom any longer. I place it beside her luggage she’d plopped down in my beauty room.
From sliding her into Lil’ Baby’s SuperBowl pre-party to almost sneaking her into the SuperBowl itself at SoFi, both of which I was working, that weekend could be a blog post of its own. I don’t know if all my brain cells have regenerated yet from all the sleep I missed between running plays with her and running my tail to event gigs.
The last day of her visit comes and she’s packing her suitcase with the Nordstrom shopping bag sitting right there once again. Do you think she took it?
Where she was packing, right there in that beauty room lay also the black Versace shades I’d had since our linkup in NYC the year prior, where we’d swapped. I would’ve been glad for her to leave the black Celine shades and take back the Versace pair, as the oversized styling of the Celine frames fit my big face better.
If she hadn’t seen the Versace shades, maybe that would’ve been one thing, but she did. To make sure I wasn’t tripping, I looked back thru my InstaStory archive and surely enough there’s a snap of us walking to a day party where I’m wearing the Versace shades and we’re both looking in the camera. Child, she wasn’t worried ‘bout them shades she’d gotten for ‘bout 80% off when she was working at Sunglass Hut way back when she only had one kid. She never said, “oh yeah, let’s not forget to swap back.” She wanted to keep the nicer, newer, trendy Celine shades; and I wasn’t pressed in either direction.
You see how the two-piece set and sunglasses came into my possession over a year and a half ago, and stayed there, right? So, you tell me what you would do at this point in time if this girl contacted you saying to make your way to the post office to mail her her items.
My immediate reaction was “hunh?”. My face scrunched up in confusion as I was out on a jog aroundLA.
My second thought was, “I’m not mailing her sh*t.”
Then, my third thought was, “why?”.
Why has she found a way to bypass my block list to contact me about some items her actions made very clear she didn’t want?
Why does she think I’m going to ask “how high?” when she says “jump”?
Why am I not?
I heard a quote once about the connection between writing and thinking that really resonated with me. "I write entirely to find out what is on my mind, what I'm thinking," the late American writer said. And I guess that’s why I’m here, on my soapbox.
I knew I wasn’t shipping a darn thing, but as I was making my way down the Miracle Mile sidewalks, I didn’t know why I wasn’t.
Now that I’ve really thought this thing through, there’s a couple of reasons.
Here’s why I’m not returning the items my ex-BFF asked me for.
First of all, I would say she didn’t want them because she didn’t take them when she could’ve, but I suppose people have the right to change their minds. Okay, you didn’t want the items, now you do… Cool. How is that my responsibility? I don’t see how it’s my responsibility to get her belongings back to her that she left in my possession on purpose and blatantly chose not to retrieve when she had the opportunity to retrieve them.
Second of all, let’s say she did want them all along and it was my responsibility to get them back to her. Are you kidding me? All that I’ve given this girl and I’m being bothered behind what?! One candle I gifted her alone earlier this year is worth more than those old shades and that jogger set. Shoot, I’ve spent more at the liquor store and dispensary in preparation to host her in my home than she spent on those items she’s pressed about. Ain’t no way. You’ve got to be kidding me.
I’ve not wronged you, I’ve not taken nothing from; I’ve only given to you, time and time again. Yet you look for a way to take from me? I don’t understand. Mind you, the moment I put the baggy set on my body the other day – which is what seems to have ignited her because I posted it on Instagram thinking nothing of it – I knew I would be giving it away, and the little frames definitely aren’t my favorite either, so it’s not the absence of the items that would bother me, it’s the principle.. I’ve already given you everything, and you want to take some more?
But I don’t know why I’m pretending to be surprised. Of course she’ll look for a way to take, even months after we’ve gone our separate ways, that’s her nature. She’s a taker; I’m a giver. She’s a tic; I’m a dog.
Our symbiotic relationship has always been parasitic.
Willfully ignorant, under the false hope that's been created in my own head, I thought I could love her into loving me properly. Each time she’d show herself, we’d “breakup”, but it wouldn’t take much for me to take her back, thinking, without any real reason, maybe by the stroke of a magic wand our relationship would turn into a mutual one.. maybe this time we’ll be able to depend on each other. My logical mind knows better, but I suppose my heart would always hold me back.
In a mutualistic relationship, both parties bring equal benefits to each other and are able to depend on one another. In a parasitic relationship, one individual only takes and ends up causing harm to the other.
I really wish I could say I’m exaggerating, and I’m making lies up about this girl. Unfortunately, I’m not. That’s really Pea.
As I write this, I’m trying to decide if I’m upset, if I want vengeance.
Do I want to insist she mail me any and all items of mine that are in her possession? Do I want to demand she give me the 2-thousand-dollar designer bag that a man paid for, in pursuit of me, for us to be “Goyard sisters”? Do I want to hold her to paying me back the 900 dollars I got from my friend for the flight to L.A. this past Easter weekend that she failed to get on due to her own poor family planning?
Lord. Lord. Mercy me.
All I can do is shake my head. I can’t believe this girl. But, I can. It’s Pea.
There’s so much there, and nothing at all, a black hole, a star that’s collapsed onto herself. You pour and pour and who knows where it goes.
Since her saying she’ll see me in court for her three items valued somewhere around a hundred bucks, there’s been a slight internal debate about whether or not I regret having given not only material items, but so much of my effort, connections and resources, when she provided nothing.. And, I don’t. She needed it.
And if she does fulfill that threat of taking me to court, and the judge rules in her favor, she needs that too.
Friendship can be complicated anywhere, in a fake city like L.A., it gets even trickier. I’ll have to get back up on my soapbox another day to tell you about some other disheartening situations I’ve had with girls since living in Los Angeles.
Have you ever had a toxic friendship? Tell me about it in the comment section. And if this story kept your interest all the way thru, it may keep someone else’s too! Please share.
⁺The name and descriptive aspects of the individual have been altered to conceal her identity.
⁺⁺Baby mamas of rappers that have now gained millions of followers on social media and built a profitable brand out of their bad b*tch personas.
⁺⁺⁺RNB is an acronym for a lady that’s well taken care of by her wealthy man. A male and female rapper collaborated on a song in that relationship title’s honor
blog cover image: Society19
