The White Lotus season three. Photo / Supplied
The dynamic between three characters in the new series of The White Lotus has brought back uncomfortable memories
I’m watching the toxic female friends in the new season of HBO’s social satire The White Lotus with a mixture of joy and sickening familiarity.
They’re a tight-knit trio – so sweet on the surface, yet constantly competing and undermining each other. From the very first episode, it rang some pretty loud bells. I once had a three-person friendship that became so toxic, I had to escape.
It started off so well. We met at university and clicked straight away. I became best friends with Lisa first, then she met Katherine (Kath) at the bar where she worked, and soon we were a trio*.
We studied together, went out regularly, and had endless fun – it felt like a real sisterhood. We travelled abroad on several holidays, sharing every detail of our lives. It seemed like we’d be friends forever.
I think that’s the reason the fallout was so intense: there was real love at the core of it, but a number of factors turned it from something amazing to something harmful.
In our early days at uni, it was easy – we were on a level playing field. We were all dating carelessly, with little to compete over.
Even as a trio, I felt secure in my role within the group, and my bond with Lisa remained strong, so I never felt threatened. Sometimes we liked the same guys, but it was never a big deal.
Looking back, though, an awkward dynamic was there from the start.
Kath was originally the outsider, joining our tight-knit duo – but somehow, she ended up in the central role. She became the queen bee – and we turned into her minions.
There was a constant, unspoken battle between Lisa and I to secure the top spot in Kath’s affections. One month, Lisa seemed like the favourite; the next, it was me. But there was no way to predict which way it would swing – or why.
It became worse when we moved to London after graduating – suddenly, everything was a competition. Lisa worked in healthcare, Kath in finance, and I was at a marketing agency.
My job had a bit more of a cool factor, but Kath was earning more, and every conversation felt like a subtle scorekeeping exercise, with each of us either gaining or losing points. But it was all done in a really, really subtle way: little implications and digs.
Relationships were another battle ground. I was endlessly dating, which I found really frustrating, while the others had a series of longer-term relationships.
They would sympathise with me, but it was always a bit patronising: they’d use tired phrases like, “It’ll happen when you least expect it”. It was faux-comforting but actually pointed. The subtext was always: “I’ve managed to achieve happiness first”.
We also developed this bizarre obsession around wealth. We’re all from the same comfortable backgrounds, but for some reason Lisa became fixated on finding a man with money.
I didn’t truly think that way, nor did Kath, but I definitely felt judged by Lisa and found myself getting defensive when talking about a new guy.
We were so close that we developed our own tribal values – something I only realised once I’d broken away.
We became entrenched in an echo chamber, especially when it came to other people, and many of our friendships outside the trio fell apart.
When one guy really p***** Lisa off, the group dictated that he was awful, and we were all forbidden from speaking to him. I’ve since reconnected with him – now I am allowed to have my own opinions.
Another strange aspect of our tribal bonding was the way we all dressed the same. We all wore clothes from an approved list of brands – if I bought something from Arket, I knew it was fine.
We’d share hundreds of online links to clothes and, somehow, we’d all end up with the same formula of outfit, hairstyle and make-up – like clones. It was a way of signalling status and avoiding being the odd one out in our trio.
You “won” if you spotted the next cool item and shared it with the others. If I ever felt like an outsider, it was a way to start a conversation. But it eventually became this non-stop, gluttonous obsession.
The problem was that Kath was a total shopaholic: she was constantly buying new clothes or homeware, anything from a trendy lamp to kitchen utensils. That had terrible consequences for me and Lisa, who felt this pressure to keep up with her.
I had a desperate need to show off in the way she did, to look and feel as polished. I thought I was investing in myself, but it was the total opposite. I ended up with £7000 ($15,800) of credit card debt, which was really scary.
We also argued about food and fitness. We’re very different shapes and sizes, but we all used really awful language to describe our bodies whenever we were unhappy. Lisa struggled badly with her body image and her relationship with food, and her fixation had an influence on us.
It eventually dawned on me that this friendship was making me utterly miserable.
Every time we met up, we’d get into these tit-for-tat critical routines: you were spiky about this part of my life, so I found a way to get back at you. I realised I had to step away.
It was really painful and sad – the hardest break-up I’ve ever gone through – but I knew it was necessary.
Strangely, although I’d been friends with Lisa first, she was the one I had to cut ties with. Our friendship just couldn’t survive being part of a trio: it brought out the worst in us.
We’re reasonable, like-minded people, so I’m disappointed that it had to end in such a dramatic way. Oddly, we’ve since discussed it and realised we actually felt the same.
There were so many times when I felt completely isolated, like my whole life was being picked apart, and she did too. It makes it more frustrating that we turned on each other.
I’m still in touch with Kath, but the nature of our friendship has changed completely. I’m now honest with her and that whole layer of judgment has been removed. She’s no longer my go-to person or the centre of my universe – it’s much healthier.
Ending that three-way friendship was so liberating. I began reintroducing colour into my wardrobe (with Lisa and Kath, I could only wear oatmeal or various shades of brown).
Now, I find joy in my own self-expression, no longer confined to the tribe.
My attitude towards relationships and friendships has shifted and I’ve taken back control of my personal finances.
I buy things based on actual need, not desire – I’m no longer trying to impress anyone. Shopping second-hand brings me much more satisfaction than watching pricey Cos parcels pile up.
Friendships can be even more intense than romantic relationships, maybe because you know that your early relationships will probably end; whereas with friends you’ve been through so much together, you’ve grown together, and you don’t see the end coming. But my trio became simply unbearable.
I have actually found the storyline in The White Lotus quite comforting – if this is a subplot on a massively popular show, it must be a more universal experience than I realised.
But it’s different with men: the toxic dynamic didn’t strike a chord with my boyfriend at all.
Whereas I’m sure lots of women will be like me – half enjoying the show’s entertainment value and half cringing, thinking “Oh God, this is too close to home”.
* Names and details have been changed
As told to Marianka Swain
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