Latinas are taught to center their lives around the women with whom they cohabitate life. For us, much of our early interactions revolved around our primas, tías, abuelas, and our mamá. We are taught that our female connections are our foundational relationships. So, it’s no surprise that Latinas treat their female friendships the same way. This is something that makes the loss of that connection so incredibly painful.
The loss of a best friend is something that sticks with you for a long time. Just because that person is no longer there, it doesn’t mean you won’t come across things that make you wish they still occupied a space in your life. There’s always that one meme that only they would understand. Or that one situation that you know they’d help you navigate better than anyone else.
But they are gone, happily killing it in their lane, and that grief you feel takes another breath.

The loss of a best friend is a pain that’s silent and isn’t always named
This kind of mourning isn’t often discussed, but it is felt just as profoundly as any other we experience. Losing a best friend can hurt more than losing a romantic partner. It’s because the space that you each live in is so intrinsically woven into the fabric of your being that when they are gone, it’s like you’re missing a limb.
But who do you tell about this grief when the person you would have shared this pain with is the very one who’s no longer there? While you suffer in silence, anger begins to pool. How do you speak about something that society doesn’t even acknowledge?
Gone are the outings, the rituals, the conversations, and the love you cherished. The one that held you up. The one that soothed you through laughter. Was it always good? No, but they were always there.
Bronx-born Dominican Mariyesi Acosta Diaz tells Latinidad Collective that losing your best friend was “like losing a part of yourself.”
“It left a scar on my heart that I know will never fully fade. The pain doesn’t entirely disappear; it just softens over time,” she explains.

Rayna Tuero Gomez admits that she agrees with this sentiment.
“It’s f**king hard. Unless you’ve lived it, especially with someone you thought was your best friend, you wouldn’t understand the complexity of it. [You’re left] feeling like you’ve just lost a part of yourself; those who get it, get it,” she tells LC.
The Latina of Cuban and Spanish descent adds, “Losing that, for whatever reason, hurts like hell. Even if, in the end, it was for the best because the person wasn’t the friend you thought they were.”
The cultural background of Latinas often dictates how they approach friendships and how they move on from them, as well
Our friends are where we learn sisterhood outside of our families. It’s especially true for those who didn’t grow up with sisters or are only children. That sisterhood rewires our brains. It teaches us our value and worth outside of the familial dynamics that are often dictated by marianismo.
Vanessa Schwippert revealed to LC that her relationship with her former best friend felt more like that of sisters than just friends.
The biracial Latina said, “We both cared for each other as sisters [did]: We held each other accountable, we laughed, we cried, we were honest with each other, we honored each other’s boundaries.”

“I feel like all of that is very special for women, but specifically for Latinas. We’re often the only safe space we have for each other. Work doesn’t get us, our families don’t get us, our partners don’t get us, but Latina to Latina, we get each other,” she asserts.
Acosta Diaz noted that she felt the same way, adding that to her, her former best friend was “family.”
“That’s what made it so painful. When you see someone as a sister, you believe the bond is strong enough to work through anything,” said the brand communications and influencer marketer.
She continued, “I would do anything for my family; they are my ride or die, so it hurts when something breaks that connection and you can’t understand why or find a way to fix it. Losing my best friend felt like losing a family member.”
Despite the passage of time, our former best friends continue to shape us long after their departure
From the moment they walk into our lives, our best friends teach us things we never expected. They show us a side of life we’d never experience otherwise. Not only do they play the role of friend and sister, but they also play the role of teacher.
Despite their departure from our lives, we can still learn more about ourselves. It forces us to reflect on where we may have dropped the ball when it comes to boundaries and realize that sometimes it’s okay to walk away.
Tuero Gomez adds, “I learned that self-value plays a big part in the boundaries we set. Emotional safety comes with those boundaries.”

“It was hard, but realizing that the friendship wasn’t truly serving the person I was or wanted to be, this lesson came from time and distance away from that friendship. [A]lso finding healthy friendships and people who valued me for me and were not expecting anything but the same respect and treatment and unconditional love in return [helped me heal],” she adds.
Schwippert echoes similar sentiments.
“I learned that I need to pay attention to red flags. I tend to give people the benefit of the doubt, and I end up hurting in the end. This friend had a habit of [ghosting] people, and I knew that; I saw it firsthand, and I just assumed it would never happen between us. But, of course, it did. It was normal for her,” Schwippert explained.
For Acosta Diaz, the dissolution of her friendship helped her appreciate her “own company.”
“That experience allowed me to deepen my self-awareness and develop a much stronger and genuine appreciation for my own company,” she posits.
She concludes, “I am so incredibly grateful that it happened. So many people still struggle with being alone, but I’ve come to see it as a source of strength and emotional safety.”






