I’ve been thinking a lot about friendship, leadership, and the boundaries we draw between them—or sometimes don’t.
A few weeks ago, I had a falling out with a friend from the surf community—someone I’d traveled with, surfed with, trusted. It happened out of the blue. One choice I made for myself led to the friendship breaking down. No conversation. Just a complete shutdown.
It threw me—not because I regretted my decision, but because, as Bethany—another one of my surf friends—put it:
“It’s total rug out from under your feet stuff. You feel like you’ve crossed some invisible line—and there’s no shared playbook for what’s right or wrong.”
Exactly. There was no bad intent—but also no conversation about expectations or boundaries. We were coming from different values. And when that happens—especially around boundaries—relationships can snap under the strain.
Surf as a Mirror
I’d been invited, last-minute, to join a high-performance surf trip where my friend was already going. I hesitated—because my life was already full: I was job hunting, moving house, and had dental work booked post-trip. How could I even consider going? I had so much on. I asked my husband—the only person who really needed to weigh in, since he’d be handling the move—and he said yes. With his support, I decided to go.
I also get that the coach running the trip is running a business and curating the right vibe and dynamic for the group. It made total sense that he’d offer the spot to someone already there, eager to learn, with enough experience to contribute to the crew.
From my side, I thought my friend would be stoked—surfing together again, unexpected bonus. We’d been surf friends first, then I became her client. There was no hint that things had shifted or that this would cross a line.
When I sensed tension, I offered to bow out and apologized for not giving her a heads-up. But the rupture was immediate and final: “No conversation.”
What Surf Taught Me About Work
And as I thought it through, I realized—surf wasn’t the only place I’d felt this dynamic. I’d seen it at work too.
A Work Friendship That Struggled
I once had a peer who was also a friend. We’d worked well together, and I genuinely valued their insight and energy. But when the company shifted its performance model and they ended up in a structure I was leading—things changed. Important context: I’d previously helped them get promoted. But now they felt they’d outgrown me, that they were on the cusp of their next move, and didn’t want to report to me again. They even said, “What would I learn from her? I’ve already reported to her.”
When their own career was on the line, they leaned into self-preservation. And that’s okay—I don’t hold it against them. But I do believe that if we’d stayed aligned as colleagues who could mediate, or friends who could openly chat about it, we could have weathered it together and maybe even made the culture better.
I kept trying to build trust and space for their voice. But underneath, I could tell—our 1:1s and Slack chats weren’t real anymore. They weren’t sharing openly. Over time, feedback from others—and pointed comments like, “All she does is surf”—told me the dynamic had shifted. The reality? I was working 14-hour days at that point. The assumptions weren’t just wrong—they showed how little trust was left. My gut knew: the dynamic had changed.
It wasn’t about one moment. It was about unspoken expectations, misaligned values, and an inability to adapt to a new culture.
A Work Friendship That Strengthened
Now—a different example. A good one.
At Atlassian, Megan and I worked together as peers for about three months. We respected each other and listened openly during that time. Later, when she moved into the area and we discovered our shared passion for surfing, we started spending time surfing together. People assumed: “They must be scheming on work while they surf.” Nope—we surfed for the joy of it. But we also sparred ideas intentionally—because she was one of the few people who:
- knew the org inside and out
- wasn’t my boss
- wasn’t on my team
- had no agenda
Megan and I had the trust and maturity to be real with each other. We could say when something bugged us or when a line got crossed. Life got busy, sure—family stuff would pull us in different directions—but we had a solid base. We also watched each other’s roles change as we got new teams, new leaders, and the culture shifted around us. Our advocates changed, our ability to navigate the company evolved, and we had to keep an eye on optics. When we had time, we’d spar stories and share perspectives. And we were intentional about keeping work and surf life separate. Yes, we had moments—especially when we had different takes on certain team dynamics—but we could name it, respect it, and move forward.
That friendship made us stronger leaders—not weaker ones. We chose to blur the lines with care. We knew where friendship ended and work clarity began.
The Leadership Question: Is Friendship at Work Immature—or Mature?
Here’s where I’ve landed:
- Closeness at work isn’t immature. And keeping things distant doesn’t automatically mean you’re doing it right.
- Maturity is about self-awareness, having real conversations about expectations, and aligned values.
- Blurred boundaries can be a superpower—or a wipeout—depending on the people, the timing, and the culture.
When Relationships Fracture as You Grow
Sometimes a break is inevitable:
- Identity threat—one person feels left behind
- Values clash—silent expectations collide
- Fear—of losing control, closeness, or status
- Lack of tools—no capacity to navigate complexity
Another point Bethany said:
“If there’s no conversation, they can’t be called wrong. It’s self-protection.”
What I’m Learning
I used to think the goal was to keep every relationship intact as I grew. Now I know:
- Some friendships are for a season.
- Some can flex and deepen.
- Others can’t. And when they can’t—you don’t owe guilt for growing.
In surf, in leadership, in life:
“I choose joy over guilt. The right to grow and move on. Choosing my values over playing the game as others set it.”
On Clear and Healthy Boundaries
Good boundaries start with clear communication and expectations. In work and life, some relationships can blur—others can’t. But you can’t expect people to read your mind.
In the case of a surf friend—she never flagged that she wanted a strictly professional relationship, or where her line was. No conversation—just decisions. If she’d said, “If you’re my client, we’re not doing trips or friend stuff,” I’d have respected that. Honestly, I probably wouldn’t have signed up as her client—I was there for the friendship.
Boundaries also protect your mental and physical energy. If certain relationships—work or personal—are draining you, that’s a sign. For me, that’s why I carve out space: surf, time off, a walk with my dog, music, a book. When I need to reset, I do.
And yes—sometimes at work, it’s tricky. I’ve had leaders who frowned on burnout. So I learned: be selective about what you share. Sometimes it’s, “I have a personal commitment”—and that’s enough.
If I Could Whisper to Myself Six Months Ago
When the game changes, you don’t have to keep playing. It’s okay to walk away.
Not every person is meant to stay in your life forever. If the values gap is too wide—sometimes moving on is healthiest for everyone.
I’ve done this even with my own dad. Our values diverged, communication broke down. Eventually, I had to let go of the relationship. I keep the good memories—but I no longer carry the weight of it.
Helping My Team Navigate These Shifts
I try to be a supportive leader here. I aim to notice when values or business needs have shifted. I ask reflective questions to my team members in 1:1s and skip level 1:1s to help them see and create their own point of view. If they can’t see it, I share my perspective—sometimes playing devil’s advocate—to help them spar deeper and ultimately strengthen their thinking. Usually, team members get there—there have only been a rare few who have not.
But—truth—I haven’t always seen it in my own story fast enough. Sometimes I’ve tried too hard to adapt, to stay positive, to fit a narrative. I’ve worked harder, pushed through—until one day, I realized the game had changed. The optics mattered more than the actual work. And that’s not my value set.
One example: this same peer story from earlier. They became laser-focused on their next promotion—even to the point of throwing others under the bus. I kept focusing on collaboration and fairness. But in a culture where performance was weaponized, that left me exposed. And that’s okay. Lesson learned. Time to move on.
Final Thoughts
I share these stories hoping they help others. If you find yourself in similar waters—take what resonates. Trust your gut. Ask the hard questions:
- Am I happy?
- Am I growing?
- Does this person belong in my life?
- Is work creeping too far into life—or vice versa?
And a small truth—as an overachiever, life’s never really gotten in the way of my work. Maybe it should.
Closing
I’ve outgrown old roles—and sometimes old relationships. Not because of ill will. Because of movement.
If you’re in this space too—where friendship, leadership, and growth feel messy—remember this:
You don’t have to shrink your wave to fit someone else’s comfort. Paddle out. Trust your values. Catch the next set—on your terms.