When Friendship Turns Into Identity Theft
Friendship is supposed to be a safe place – a space for sharing joys, lifting each other up, and growing together. But what happens when that “friendship” becomes a mirror of mimicry, envy, and control? What happens when the person you trust slowly drains your light to fuel their own?
The Copycat Pattern
At first, it felt flattering. Before I realized the Identity Thief was in my life to siphon away pieces of me, she seemed like someone who admired my ideas, my creativity, my love of food, travel, and life. I thought we shared a true bond – even spiritually.
But admiration turned into mimicry. At first, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but something felt off. Every trip I took, the Identity Thief suddenly wanted to take her own. Every phrase I spoke, she echoed online as if it were her thought. When I started new hobbies, she rushed to outdo me. When I purchased my first home, she didn’t celebrate me the way I had celebrated her.
I couldn’t do anything without her either copying me or devaluing me. Slowly, I realized this wasn’t friendship – it was competition.
When Boundaries Are Crossed
The worst betrayal came when the Identity Thief infiltrated the one sacred space I thought was mine – therapy. She maneuvered her way into my therapist’s schedule until I was pushed out of the very sessions that had been my lifeline. In that moment, I knew what I had suspected all along: this wasn’t about admiration. This was about control.
Her attempts to control me weren’t new. She often suggested I move in with her and her husband, framing it as concern for my safety. At first, I thought she cared. But over time, the conversations turned unsettling.
I’ll never forget the day she said: “I would like to move you into our home and never let you go. You wouldn’t have to go anywhere. We’d take care of you.”
I laughed it off, but deep down, I was unsettled. I responded lightly – “I’m grown. I need my own space. I’d go crazy without my freedom. I’ve lived alone for years and I want to keep it that way” – but something in me knew she wasn’t joking. She brought it up repeatedly, especially whenever my life was moving forward in ways that might take me away from her. That’s when I realized: an envious person is a dangerous person.
From then on, I stopped riding with her to lunch, dinner or other outings. I began meeting her places instead, driving myself so I could leave if I needed to. My instincts were telling me the truth.
The Turning Point
It took years for me to see clearly: this wasn’t about admiration, it was about her need to be me. And in the process, I was losing myself. I started to feel like I was going crazy, like my very identity was being erased.
Even my therapy sessions, once a safe space, no longer felt like mine. She had inserted herself there too, and suddenly, I wasn’t sure where I ended and she began.
Eventually, I faced a choice: Continue being drained, or walk away.
I chose myself.
Breaking away wasn’t easy. I had to cut not only emotional ties, but spiritual ones – a deep soul tie, a trauma bond that had kept me entangled with her for years. I loved her, and I wanted to help her, but I finally realized: She had to want her own healing. And narcissists rarely do. They don’t seek help for themselves; they seek supply. And they’ll do anything to keep it.
The Lesson
I don’t regret cutting the Identity Thief off. My only regret was reopening the door after I already knew better. She had once discarded me when I escaped a cult we were both members of. Later, she sent a letter – not to apologize, but to butter me up and say she missed our friendship. The truth was, she needed supply after leaving that environment too. And she wanted to finish what she had started.
Here’s what I’ve learned: People who show you their patterns rarely change. The best gift you can give yourself is the courage to believe what you see. Patterns don’t lie. And once you see them, trust yourself.
Closing Reflection
If you’ve ever been in a relationship – friendship, romantic, or family – where someone copies, competes, and controls, know this: You don’t have to stay.
Your light is yours.
Your story is yours.
Don’t let anyone steal it.
My Voice Unchained 