Patient friend turns into a ‘comfort bot’

DearAmy: I have a perfectionist friend. I used to find her neurotic nature endearing, but nowthat we’re both parents, the qualities I used to think were cute are nowwearing thin.

This started whenwe were both pregnant at the same time. My pregnancy was a (very happy!) accident. Iwasn’t married to the baby’s father, was working and finishing school, and lived in a comfy little apartment. She planned her pregnancy for the perfect time: a stable job, a marriage to a highearning partner, and a big beautiful house. Still, she panicked about the smallest things. I didn’t understand it, but I rolledwith it.

I’m not sure I can anymore. It’s not even her frequent complaining that bothers me most. It’s the fact that she no longer seems to care about me. I’ve become some kind of “comfort bot” that she messages, gets a response from, and ignores.

Discussingmy own kids seems to whip her into a bigger frenzy. She diverts every conversation back to motherhood. Mostly, I respond with the same stock empathy phrases: “That sounds hard!”

“Hope it gets better soon!” “Poor thing!,” and hope she doesn’t notice.

She’s important tome, but I can’t continue. I knowthat, as mothers, we’re supposed to support one another no matter what and thatwe should give each other permission to complain about the little things.

I don’twant to be the kind ofwoman who doesn’t do that, but truly, I can’t support thiswoman in thisway any longer. What should I do?

— TiredMommyFriend

Dear Tired: Oh yes, the “comfort bot.” What a perfect description of what it feels like to reliably deliver comfort and empathy— in short, the key elements of being a supportive friend— and to never receive the same in return.

If your friendwas in a bad patch andwas reaching out for help— then yes, you should continue to provide an actively supportive ear. But motherhood hasn’t changed her. Motherhood seems to have intensified her already intense reaction to life. She reaches out, you respond, she ignores.

You have needs, too. Motherhood may have intensified your awareness of them. If you believe it makes your friend feel better and is genuinely important for her to vent to you, then yes, respond with a heart emoji, and leave it at that. Otherwise, I suggest a quiet backing away from a relationship that seems to have run its course.

DearAmy: My spouse and I are fervent Democrats, and yet the six other family memberswe’ve invited to dinner (sitting at adjacent outdoor tables) are all Republicans.

My fear is that a relative is going to bring up politics (probably as a gibe) to initiate a debate with us, even thoughwe are the hosts. This has happened before. Howdo I politely handle such a situation?

I could respond that our wish is, just for this once, to avoid politics during dinner, but it may come off as a put-down of sorts and serve to deflate everyone’s spirits.

Something with a bit of humor could defuse and deflect it, but I’m not very funny when I feel confronted. Please help!

— Worried

DearWorried: I believe that for the next few weeks, lots of families are considering a moratorium on talking politics. One way to do thatwould be to say, at the outset: “Let’s see ifwe can get through this dinner without discussing politics, OK? First one to incite a riot has to do the dishes.” The problem is that almost every topic has political overtones right now. It’s easier not to take the bait if you refuse to take “gibes” personally, even if you suspect that is the intent.

DearAmy: Responding to “MyHair, My Choice,” I’m glad so manywomen (and maybe men) have decided to let their true hair color showthrough due to the pandemic.

To cover early salt and pepper, I started coloring my hair inmy late 30s.

I quit inmy late 40s to save time and money.

Last year, I lost allmy hair due to chemo. I feel fortunate it’s grown back salt and pepper and some curl!

— Grateful for the Extra Time

Dear Grateful: Chemo is the great leveler. I’m celebrating your recovery!