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Spare Friend Syndrome // When you’re everyone’s backup, but no one’s priority

  • Writer: Hayley Doyle
    Hayley Doyle
  • 2 hours ago
  • 4 min read
Two women laughing and holding mugs in a cozy wooden kitchen. One wears a plaid shirt, the other a green shirt, creating a warm, friendly scene.

Ever felt like you have loads of friends, but not a small group who really, truly care? You’re the one everyone likes. Everyone relies on. Everyone says lovely things about. And yet…do they actually see you?


A while back, I remember sitting with a friend while she was going through a genuinely awful time. I listened. I reassured. I offered useless advice, but tried hard to make it meaningful. It’s what friends do. At one point she paused and said, “Sorry, how are you… actually, I bet you’re fine. You’re always fine.” And in that moment, I was. But I am not always fine.


In fact, I spend a worrying amount of my life in my own head, overthinking conversations, replaying interactions, wondering if what I said was too much or not enough, or deeply offensive in ways I haven’t yet grasped. Besides, like anyone, I juggle the rollercoaster of emotions that come with having a young family and ageing parents. Suddenly, “always fine” feels like a wildly inaccurate personal brand.


This was my lightbulb moment. I realised that being fine - being capable, calm, emotionally available - can quietly turn you into the friend everyone assumes never needs checking on. And it didn’t feel very nice. I wanted to call someone, unleash and say, “You know what, I’m not fine…today.” But I just couldn’t. Instead, I overplayed the imaginary conversation in my head, wondering if it would be appropriate to bring up, or if it would just inconvenience the chosen friend. There’s a particular kind of loneliness that doesn’t come from having no friends at all, but from having enough to feel permanently on standby.


It’s different for everyone. Maybe you’re the one who gets a text at 6.47pm asking, “Free tonight?" You’re the person people call when their actual plans fall through. Someone’s safe place for

venting. You’re liked, relied on, even appreciated…just not prioritised.


Welcome to Spare Friend Syndrome


I don’t believe most people do this intentionally. Your friends see you as social. You’re included. You’re busy. You have plans. But underneath, there’s an imbalance that leaves you feeling oddly invisible. You know - and feel - useful, but somehow…optional.


What does being the ‘Spare Friend’ look like?


For some, this can show up as emotional labour. You’re the trustworthy friend people offload onto, have a good moan with. You’re excellent as listening. You validate feelings. You probably offer thoughtful insights that could save on therapy bills. But when you’re struggling, the conversation somehow…moves on. It’s no big deal.


Or, you notice you’re the one making the effort. Checking in on WhatsApp. Suggesting coffee. Following up. You get the sense that if you didn’t reach out, there wouldn't be much interaction at all.


In group settings, perhaps you’re a floater. You’re very friendly to everyone, open, honest, genuinely enjoying the company. There’s a sense of mutual appreciation in the moment. But when the gathering is over, you don’t feel deeply connected to anyone. You were there, but more like the side salad rather than the steak and chips.


And the important thing to know is this; you’re not being dramatic. You know nobody is being unkind. You don’t need advice to escape such toxic frenemies. It’s nothing like that. Sometimes, despite best intentions, we just can’t quite find our rhythm with certain people. Still, over time, it chips away at your sense of belonging.


So why does this happen?


For starters, it’s not your fault. You’re totally lovely.


Okay, here’s the annoying part; Spare Friend Syndrome often happens because you’re lovely (and fairly low maintenance). Without thought or malice, people see you as an easy place to land. You feel safe. You seem capable. You don’t come with urgent demands. And so, your needs get quietly deprioritised amid the chaos and drama of others.


You might think its because you’re quieter. Or the newest member of the group. Or because you met everyone through one person and never quite took up the same space. Nobody is overlooking you on purpose, it’s just a dynamic that has settled.

Another possibility - and one that can feel uncomfortable - is that you’ve simply outgrown the friendship, but you’re hanging on because you haven’t considered the alternative, or you’re afraid to. If you’ve recently had a baby, but your friends haven’t, you’re living a completely different reality. The same goes if you’re the one without children. Your lives no longer align. Nobody has fallen out. Nobody has been hurtful. You’ve just gone one way while your friends have gone another.


It still stings. You’re only human. But if any of this rings true, try to stop blaming yourself.


How to feel better about this…


I started by setting small boundaries. If I didn’t have the capacity to talk about something in the moment, I would admit, ‘I’m having a tough week myself.’ If it felt right, I’d still offer a hug. This was a hard one for me, but I stopped dropping everything to race to people’s side when my own priorities needed attention. I struggle to say no, but a no can be powerful - and positive - when it’s layered with honesty. And this is ongoing work. I try to focus on building one-on-one connections where the effort flows both ways. I know I can unleash and listen, and vice versa. It’s opened my mind - and heart - to new friendships I didn’t realise I needed.


In short, stop giving more than you get


Spare Friend Syndrome is really about misaligned emotional effort. No matter how understanding you are, that imbalance will eventually hurt. Friendships need room for ups and downs; you can’t be endlessly okay for someone to invest in you. You deserve to be thought of without having to remind people that you exist.


And sometimes, the moment you stop settling for less is the moment your friendships finally begin to meet you where you are. You’ll laugh at the bad stuff and cry at the happy stuff…together.


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Follow Hayley Doyle on Instagram @hayleydolly

 
 
 

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