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What to do when support feels like sabotage.
Have you ever faced a moment when collegial turned cutthroat? If so, you’re not alone.
At a conference, I was telling a story from my New York City magazine editor days to a rapt audience when another writer—who had love-bombed me with praise—quipped, “It’s Estelle’s world, and we’re all just living in it.” Her snarky tone cut down my superpower: storytelling. I squeezed out a half-hearted laugh, but felt the sting as I realized: She wasn’t my friend. She was my frenemy. In the face of her snark, I became a lesser version of myself and didn’t deliver a more characteristic-of-me clap back. And felt like crap about it.
And though I’m always tempted to think it’s personal (it’s just how I roll), I’ve come to believe it’s systemic. It’s the hidden message in every area of the workplace: There’s only room for one of us.
Why It Matters Now
Even in 2025, women still hold fewer than a third of senior leadership roles, are penalized for ambition in ways men are not, and are judged more harshly than men for being ambitious or outspoken. I’ve always been unabashedly ambitious, and I’ve definitely been someone who is outspoken, offering a target on my back for the insecure.
Frenemies thrive in that gap between scarcity and scrutiny.
In fact, social undermining—the backhanded compliment, the digs, the withheld information—can be even more draining than open conflict. With conflict at least you know where you stand. With undermining you’re left wondering if it was real or you imagined it.
And that’s what makes you feel crazy.
I tried to rationalize: My colleague wasn’t all bad. We traded resources and connections. But her sly remarks and unpredictable behavior (she accused me of resource guarding another high-profile writer and “stealing” another writer she knew), kept me off balance.
Jazzmyn Proctor, a relational therapist and host of the Visibility Standard podcast, posits that professional friendships often fray when success triggers unspoken insecurity. “It’s human nature to feel jealousy or competition if someone is moving up more quickly than you are, and sometimes people can only support you to a certain point,” she said.
Many of us shrug off the tension, worried about looking petty. For women over 50, the pressure increases because we want to appear easy to work with, especially if our frenemy is younger. But pretending doesn’t protect us.
Frenemies In Disguise
Over time, I realized frenemy relationships show up in familiar disguises.
The Turn-Down-Your-Light Dimmer
These colleagues cloak criticism as encouragement.
I once worked with someone who watched me ask probing questions during my boss’s presentation, only to say afterward, “Great input, but maybe tone down the questions. You don’t want people thinking you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Women are conditioned to play nice,” Proctor stated, which is why they hesitate to call out or even recognize when a professional relationship has turned complicated. “And all it does is teach us not to trust ourselves.”
Instead, Proctor suggested a baseball-like three strikes approach when dealing with a Dimmer. “Notice it the first time—you’re still getting to know the person. The second time, name it: ‘That comment didn’t feel good,’ and have a conversation. By the third time, you may need to limit what you share with that person going forward.”
I’ve learned to jot down the exact phrase they used so I can reality check later—was it feedback, or was it a dig?
The Guileless Guilt Tripper
This is the colleague who leans on your loyalty. She’ll say, “I thought we were close” when you don’t immediately agree to her request, or she’ll remind you of the time she covered for you, implying you owe her. You end up giving in, not because you want to, but because it feels selfish. That’s the trap, and it works because women are socialized to over-accommodate.
When I feel that pressure, I buy myself time by responding, “Let me think about it.”
Proctor sees this pattern often where guilt is weaponized and closeness used as leverage. “A healthy relationship doesn’t require you to abandon yourself, and you don’t owe everyone full access to your contacts, time, or energy.”
Sometimes the issue isn’t guilt, but a friendship that’s really built on favors instead of true connection.
Nina Badzin, friendship advice columnist and host of the podcast, Dear Nina, put it bluntly: “You have to learn the difference between a real friend and a deal friend.”
She recalled a contact who kept pushing for long “friendly” phone calls. “She’d say how much she loved talking to me, then press to schedule the next call. But I’d leave each call exhausted.” Eventually, Badzin realized the “friendship” was networking disguised as intimacy.
The Omniscient Overseer
This frenemy poses as a mentor, but really wants control. At first, the relationship looks generous: advice, opportunities, introductions. But eventually, she’s in every detail of your work, reframing your wins as hers, or reminding you she knows best.
One of my first editors guided me on a big assignment, but soon every draft reflected how she would’ve written it. “You should phrase it this way, trust me,” she’d say. But as she trusted less in my voice, I trusted less in her. Eventually, I asked her, “What would you like me to handle independently?” It set a boundary while still sounding respectful.
Sometimes that’s not enough. Proctor believes the only healthy move may be to start planning your exit. “It’s okay to recognize that an environment isn’t helpful for you.”
From Frenemy to Friends
Not every fraught relationship stays stuck. Some can find their way back to health.
Rochelle Newman-Carrasco, a 40-year-veteran in advertising, admitted her default mode was negativity—spotting flaws, anticipating failure, calling it “being realistic.” But one formerly adversarial colleague flipped the script and lifted her up by focusing on possibilities over problems and teaching her to speak it into existence.
“When I’d say, ‘We’ll never get that insurance document approved,’ or, ‘This potential hire is fantastic but has shortcomings,’ she’d counter: What might go right instead?”
“Sometimes a frenemy is just a friendship that hasn’t found solid footing yet,” said Shasta Nelson, author of The Business of Friendship. “If there’s no malice, identifying what’s missing—positivity, consistency, or vulnerability—can help repair or deepen the relationship. We can create the DNA for a connection that’s more meaningful.”
I was too chicken to ask my frenemy about her feelings (after all, they were crystal clear in my mind). But, after a long period of silence and distance, I recently responded kindly to a Facebook post by her. I’ll be a cheerleader—but I’m going to determine how and where I hold my pom-poms.
Great piece, and I can relate. I saw a lot of this behavior in academia, especially among women. Thankfully, of late, I’ve found that in memoir writing groups, women are supportive of each other, perhaps because the genre itself is marked with vulnerability.