Notes From An Estranged Friend

I’ve debated writing this for a while, mainly because our time together is no longer relevant in my life. However when you have a 10 year history with someone involved in a “scandal,” your name is bound to come up. I haven’t thought much of our time together over these last 3½ years but as things continue to unfold, people keep reaching out to me. Incredulous to the allegations and your behavior. Naturally they think I have some insight since we were so close at one point. 

My solution whenever your name came up was always to avoid the topic and just say “we no longer work together” and leave it at that. But as I sit here next to my son, glancing up from the screen as he plays with his favorite dinosaur, I think what kind of example would I be setting if I didn’t stand up for what’s right? Especially now in our current climate. 

We met over 10 years ago at a now mutual friend’s book signing. I remember nervously coming up to you to tell you that I loved your work and your cat. I told you I was a food photographer and blogger myself. You were in need of some help with your book and your blog work and asked if I would be willing to help. I said yes and thus began our working relationship that later on turned into what I thought was a friendship.

One of the common questions I’m getting asked now is “Did you have any idea she was like this?” And I have to laugh a little to myself because my mind immediately goes to yes, but if they had asked me back then, I would’ve said absolutely not. In hindsight, the signs were there from the start. The first red flag came pretty early on in us working together. Like a huge red flashing light alerting me to turn around and run away. Of course, I didn’t listen. You called me and berated me that our work was looking too similar, and that I needed to change the way I shot my personal work. I remember having this gut-wrenching, stomach-sinking feeling. Like I had done something wrong. A child being scolded by a parent. You ended the call with a joke, trying to make light of a difficult situation? Unclear. I was thrown aback by the way you could so easily switch between being mean and being nice, without so much as a second thought. This particular situation is ironic now because I guess it didn’t matter how similar our work was later on when you asked me to be your full time photographer. If you can’t beat them, join them. Or in your case: if you can’t beat them, use them.

Over the years I ignored similar disheartening situations that came more often and swiftly. Like when you snapped at me during your book tour because I was taking too many photos of you and your fans when they asked me. Or when you would purposely sign your name over my photography credit in your third book. Little things like that would make me question what your intentions truly were. I could go on and on but I guess for the purpose of time and efficiency I’ll go with the two devastating blows that really sealed the deal. 

The first was when you didn’t stay for my wedding because your then boyfriend didn’t want to be there. I remember thinking how could a friend do that? Why wouldn’t my friend stay there for one of the most important moments of my life? Maybe you didn’t really see me as a friend? All those questions were answered at another crucial moment of my life.

In 2020 my husband and I decided to start the extensive and arduous process of adoption. It was a long 2 year process, at the height of the pandemic, filled with so many emotions but above all hope. Hope that our dream of becoming parents would soon become a reality. Just when we were starting to lose that hope, in 2022 it finally happened. We were chosen and had to go to Nevada quickly and on short notice. Throughout the adoption process they advise you to not tell anyone so as to limit expectations and disappointments. So my husband and I made the decision not to tell anyone other than our immediate family. So without saying why, I asked for time off. The kicker was I didn’t know how long I needed because inter-state adoption could take a while to process. When I asked you for the time, naturally your first reaction was to ask why and to question why I couldn’t tell you anything. I assured you that it was nothing serious and that I would be able to share more soon. That wasn’t enough for you and thus began the spiral. “Did you get a book deal?” “Are you on a show?” “If you aren’t going to work with me anymore I need you to tell me!” It was text after text, each new one more irate than the last. Your sole concern was whether something good was happening for me professionally. It was clear that was something you couldn’t handle.

It was a difficult time for me as I was also concurrently dealing with my son’s birth mother possibly changing her mind. While I understood her, of course, my world was crumbling because despite trying to keep my hopes at bay, I was still disappointed that the baby I held—my son—would possibly be taken away. So I stopped responding, unable to get through to you. I was trying to save my peace, but that’s something you refused to understand even after everything was finalized and out in the open. I remember telling you how the entire situation made me feel. How you made it all about yourself and how hurt and disappointed I was. Even then you said how you were hurt because I didn’t tell you I was adopting. At that moment it was clear to me that you weren’t really my friend and that you were never going to be happy for me. It was all about you. So I decided to take some space and try to enjoy what should’ve been a happy moment for my husband and I. Two scared new parents with a tiny baby at a random hotel. Unsure of what to expect but so happy that we were doing it together.

I figured I’d reach out to you once we got the all clear to leave Nevada and go home. I’m sure it was selfish of me to not respond right away and want to just relish in this happy moment, but if there ever was a time to be selfish I think this situation warranted it. When we finally got home and settled in with our son, that’s when I saw how you turned everything around to benefit you. You continuously alluded to a “close friend” ghosting you and how hurt you were that said friend didn’t pick up the phone and call you. You became what you always become when it benefits you, as I’m seeing now; the victim. In a way I was glad that you were no longer in my life. You made it easier for me. Becoming a parent put things into perspective and made me realize that our “friendship” wasn’t adding happiness to my life but rather anxiety and toxicity. I wasn’t surprised that you spun the narrative to suit you. The hurt friend who was ghosted. It was the card I saw you play so many times before with some of your other “close friends.” 

In the end I’m glad that people are now starting to see who you really are. Someone recently told me something very profound with regard to you. “You cannot keep up the charade if you’re trying to be someone you’re not. If you have to play a character to be liked, it’s exhausting and not sustainable. When you hop on so many different trends and take on other people’s personas, who are you really?” My hope for you is that you take this time to figure that out for yourself, and if this new direction and personality is it, then own it freely and liberally, without vagueness, so that everyone can know exactly who you are. Just as I’ve known. 

-Jonathan