Dear Anna,

I’m stuck in an uncomfortable spot between two people I care about, and I don’t know how to handle it without blowing something up.

My partner and my closest friend recently got into a pretty heated argument. It wasn’t about our relationship or someone crossing some huge moral line — it was more a clash of personalities and values that escalated, with a bit of politics thrown in for good measure. Voices were raised, things were said that probably shouldn’t have been, and now the damage feels … permanent.

Since then, my partner has made it clear they don’t want to be around my friend anymore. They’re not asking me to cut them off entirely, but they refuse to attend anything where my friend will be, and they get tense or withdrawn whenever my friend’s name comes up. My friend, meanwhile, thinks my partner overreacted and feels judged and unfairly dismissed.

I feel like I’m constantly managing the fallout — splitting my time, avoiding group plans, editing what I say to each of them so I don’t “pick a side.” It’s exhausting. I hate feeling like I’m living two separate lives, and I resent that a single argument has turned into an ongoing loyalty test I never signed up for.

Do I actually have to choose between my partner and my friend? Is it reasonable to expect them to coexist politely, or is that asking too much once a line has been crossed? And how do I set boundaries so I’m not the emotional middleman forever? — Managing Itinerant Denizens Does Limit Everything

Dear MIDDLE,

Oh man. As a child of divorced parents, I feel this hard. Being wedged between two people you care about after a blowup is one of the most quietly miserable positions in adult life. You didn’t start the fight, you didn’t consent to referee it, and yet here you are, running emotional interference for both of them while you suffer in uncertainty. Of course you’re exhausted.

Let’s clear one thing up immediately: You don’t have to choose. But you do have to stop letting their conflict turn you into the logistics manager of everyone’s feelings.

What happened here wasn’t a betrayal or a relationship-ending moral rupture. It was a clash. A loud one, sure, but still a clash. Adults are allowed to dislike each other. They are not, however, allowed to outsource the discomfort of that dislike onto you indefinitely.

Right now, your partner is drawing a boundary (“I don’t want to be around this person”), and your friend is nursing a bruise (“I feel judged and written off”). Both reactions are human. What’s not sustainable is you smoothing every edge so no one ever feels awkward again. That way lies burnout and resentment.

Here’s the reframe that might help: You’re not responsible for repairing their relationship. You are responsible for protecting your emotional bandwidth.

So what can you actually do?

First, normalize separate lanes. It’s OK — and often necessary — for your partner and your friend to occupy different parts of your life for a while. This doesn’t mean secrecy or double lives; it just means not forcing proximity that no one is ready for. You can say, calmly and kindly, to your partner: “I respect that you don’t want to spend time with them right now. But I also won’t step back from people who are important to me.” And to your friend: “I care about you, and I’m not asking you to change your feelings — but I can’t be involved in this argument.”

Second, set a boundary around being the messenger. If you find yourself translating grievances (“They didn’t mean it like that,” “They’re still upset about X”), stop. Gently but firmly. You can say: “I’m not going to carry messages or take sides. If you ever want to clear the air directly, that’s between you.” This alone will lower the temperature dramatically.

Third, check whether your partner’s boundary stays a boundary — or quietly becomes a veto. There’s a difference between “I don’t want to attend things with them” and “I don’t like when you see them.” One is self-protective. The other starts to encroach on your autonomy. If you feel pressure to shrink your friendships to keep the peace, that’s worth naming early.

Fourth — and this is the uncomfortable part — ask yourself whether this tension reveals something about values that matter long-term. Not because one argument defines anyone, but because patterns do. Is your partner generally rigid or flexible? Is your friend often inflammatory or misunderstood? You don’t need answers today, but it’s OK to quietly observe.

And finally, give yourself permission to step out of the emotional blast radius. This is not a loyalty test unless you let it be one. You’re allowed to say, “I love you both, and I’m opting out of the ongoing commentary.”

No one needs to be best friends. They just need to stop making you the cost of their discomfort. You’re not choosing between people — you’re choosing not to be the battleground.

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