
How to Tell a Friend You Don't Like Their Partner
The decision 'requires a lot of introspection,' says Jordana Abraham, co-founder of the women-focused website Betches and co-host of the dating and relationships podcast U Up? For example: Do you dislike their beau because they have different interests than you, not to mention an off-putting vibe that kills your delusions of double dates? Or are you genuinely worried about the way they're treating someone you care about deeply? 'One is about you,' Abraham says. 'And one is about you protecting your friend.'
We asked experts exactly what to say without breaking up your friendship.
'How are things going with Jess?'
It's best to enter conversations about your friend's romantic partner with an open mind and a positive attitude. 'Approaching it with curiosity and no judgment will make your friend much more open to hearing your opinions,' Abraham says.
If you come across as though you've already made up your mind about their other half, they'll be less likely to confide in you about any issues, because you won't seem like an objective enough source, she adds. Aim to bring it up privately during a quiet moment, rather than in a group setting.
'Your happiness is always my first priority, but I also feel protective of you. There are a few things I've noticed that I'd love to talk to you about—would that be OK?'
This approach centers your friend's wellbeing, while gently introducing your concerns in a judgment-free way. 'It tells them you're not trying to control their choices—you're just paying attention because you care,' says Jenny Dreizen, an etiquette expert and co-founder of Fresh Starts Registry, a website that offers scripts for tricky conversations. 'Ask for permission before diving in, and if they say they're not ready to hear it, respect that. It's about planting a seed, not demanding a reaction.'
Read More: The Worst Thing to Say to Someone Who's Depressed
'I notice you seem different since you started dating Dan. What's changed for you?'
The best thing about 'different' is that it's a neutral term, says matchmaker Aleeza Ben Shalom, who hosted the Netflix show Jewish Matchmaking. You're not telling your friend they seem any better or worse than usual—you're simply noting a change in personality and diving into what's behind it.
'It allows them to do some self-reflection and tell you what's going on—and maybe they'll have that 'aha' moment and see what you've also seen,' she says.
'You don't seem to be at your baseline happiness, and I'd love to see you in a relationship where you're at baseline or above.'
It's never a good idea to compare your friend's new partner to an ex. Instead, reference their overall happiness, which could factor in their job, where they live, and their relationships, Ben Shalom says. 'It's acknowledging that the person they're with might be affecting them, but not in a way that makes you smile—in a way that makes you concerned,' she says.
Read More: 8 Things to Say When Someone Lies to You
Another approach Ben Shalom sometimes recommends: 'I don't know that your best self is coming through when you're with Matt.' Once you say this to your friend, follow up with a question: 'Does this resonate with you? Or am I off-base here?' Then allow them to guide the conversation; you'll be able to tell quickly if they're receptive to talking it out, or if you should back off.
'How was it when they met your family? What did they do to celebrate your birthday?'
Asking about the more nuanced parts of your friend's relationship can provide insight. Since you're not phrasing your questions in a judgmental way, your friend is less likely to get defensive or clam up. 'They'll feel more free, if they are having an issue, to say, 'It didn't really go that well,' or 'He didn't get along with my mom,'' Abraham says. Your job after that is to make it clear you're a safe space for them to vent or ask for advice—and that you'll always be rooting for the best for them.
'What are the qualities you value most in a partner?'
When you phrase a question like this, it's not taking a dig at one specific person—which makes it an ideal way to open a productive conversation, Ben Shalom says. Once your friend tells you what they value the most, ask a pointed follow-up: 'How in alignment do you feel Mike is with your values?' Then pause and allow them to reflect.
'They might be like, 'Well, we're not really connected in this area, but we're super connected here,'' she says. You'll get to learn more about why they're drawn to their partner—which could help shift your perspective. On the other hand, 'They could see, 'Wait a minute, maybe I'm in it for half the right reasons, but maybe this person as a whole isn't necessarily good for me.''
The best part? Your friend will be making the decision on their own, rather than feeling like you're making it for them.
'What's your gut telling you?'
Especially in the early stages of a relationship, people often ask their friends: 'What do you think about so-and-so?' Ben Shalom likes to flip the question: 'What does your gut feeling tell you?'
'You don't have to point the finger and tell them—their insight is the most valuable thing to motivate whatever change needs to happen,' she says. 'And the truth is, they have to live with the decision. You don't have to. People pick their own person.'
'I just want to make sure you're up for handling a challenging relationship.'
Some situations call for a more direct approach. Ben Shalom recalls the time someone asked her what she thought about their partner, and she replied: 'If you're asking me honestly, I don't think it's a great match. I don't think it's necessarily a smart match, and I don't think it's an easy match.'
Then she added that, if they chose to move forward, she hoped they were prepared to navigate a challenging relationship. She recalls telling her friend: 'If you were working out, you could lift about five pounds. Maybe if you work out for a couple years, you'll work your way up to 50 or 100. I think you're trying to lift 500 pounds, and I just don't think you're ever going to be able to bench press that and hold it.'
'You know I'm always here, and always on your side.'
Sometimes, the most powerful thing you can do is remind your friend that they're safe with you, Dreizen says. If they're in a dynamic that feels even slightly off, they might already be struggling with isolation or other challenging emotions—so a simple reassurance can help them feel grounded and loved.
Read More: 14 Things to Say Besides 'I Love You'
'That's exactly what they need if they ever do want to open up or start questioning their relationship,' she says. 'Say it often. Not just once, not just when you're worried—make it part of your regular friendship language.' Repetition builds a safety net, and your friend will know who to turn to when they're ready.
Wondering what to say in a tricky social situation? Email timetotalk@time.com

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles

Business Insider
6 days ago
- Business Insider
My name is not common. I still correct people in work emails when they get it wrong.
"I'm really bad with names, and I know I'm going to mess this up. I-i-is it Jayce-Lee?" the teacher would say while the class snickered in the background, much to my embarrassment. It's actually pronounced juh-sehl-lee. Unfortunately, those awkward moments didn't disappear after school — they followed me into my career. Whenever someone misspells my name in an email, I can still hear those snickers in my head: Jasley. Jaselyn. Joselyn. Jas. Jaselley. All loud and wrong. I feel disrespected In the corporate world, we are frequently told to uphold professionalism in all forms of communication. I was taught to double- and triple-check my emails for typos before sending them. I understood that misspelling someone's name was a sign of carelessness and, ultimately, disrespect. I'd digitally dot every I and cross every T in all my emails, just to receive a response saying, with random versions of what's supposed to be my name. My name is in my email, signature, website, LinkedIn, and bylines. It's exhausting. To some, my request to spell my name correctly may seem dramatic. But I care. Many people from diverse backgrounds with unique names can relate. It's not "just a name —" it's my name. I'm named after 2 women in my family I'm named after two fearless and confident women: my mother and grandmother. My name is a combination of the first syllables of my mother's and grandmother's names: Jacqueline and Celina, with a special twist in its spelling. It's also a nod to my Dominican culture, where it's common for mothers to create unique names by blending parts of loved ones' names. My name is prophetic, foreshadowing how I would navigate the world: fearlessly and confidently, just like my mother and grandmother. I wear my name, its unique pronunciation and spelling with pride. So yes, it is deep to me. That's why I'm also intentional about extending the same care to others with names that reflect their culture, language, and proud lineage. I resonate deeply with Netflix's "The Residence" actor Uzo Aduba's quote on her own name: "My mom taught me not to change my name for those unwilling to learn it. If they can learn to say Tchaikovsky, Dostoyevsky, and Michelangelo, they can learn to say Uzoamaka." For a long time, I didn't fully grasp the weight of that statement. Back in school, I would shy away from correcting my teachers. I used to feel embarrassed. However, as an adult, I've learned to reclaim the beauty of my name and correct people without feeling like I was doing too much. I correct people in professional settings These days, when I get a "Hey, Jasley!" email, I correct the sender with a simple line like "By the way, my name is spelled Jasely" or "I noticed you spelled this way, but my name's actually spelled like this." No one has ever gotten upset when I corrected them. In fact, they usually appreciate the clarification, apologize, and move forward with the correct spelling. I may not be Dostoyevsky, Freud, or Arnold Schwarzenegger, but my name carries just as much weight. My identity is beautifully woven into it.

Business Insider
6 days ago
- Business Insider
My name is not common. I still correct people in work emails when they get it wrong.
Growing up, I always dreaded the first day of school. I winced and braced myself as the teacher traveled down the roster. I always knew my name was next when it was introduced with an awkward chuckle and disclaimer. "I'm really bad with names, and I know I'm going to mess this up. I-i-is it Jayce-Lee?" the teacher would say while the class snickered in the background, much to my embarrassment. It's actually pronounced juh-sehl-lee. Unfortunately, those awkward moments didn't disappear after school — they followed me into my career. Whenever someone misspells my name in an email, I can still hear those snickers in my head: Jasley. Jaselyn. Joselyn. Jas. Jaselley. All loud and wrong. I feel disrespected In the corporate world, we are frequently told to uphold professionalism in all forms of communication. I was taught to double- and triple-check my emails for typos before sending them. I understood that misspelling someone's name was a sign of carelessness and, ultimately, disrespect. I'd digitally dot every I and cross every T in all my emails, just to receive a response saying, with random versions of what's supposed to be my name. My name is in my email, signature, website, LinkedIn, and bylines. It's exhausting. To some, my request to spell my name correctly may seem dramatic. But I care. Many people from diverse backgrounds with unique names can relate. It's not "just a name —" it's my name. I'm named after 2 women in my family I'm named after two fearless and confident women: my mother and grandmother. My name is a combination of the first syllables of my mother's and grandmother's names: Jacqueline and Celina, with a special twist in its spelling. It's also a nod to my Dominican culture, where it's common for mothers to create unique names by blending parts of loved ones' names. My name is prophetic, foreshadowing how I would navigate the world: fearlessly and confidently, just like my mother and grandmother. I wear my name, its unique pronunciation and spelling with pride. So yes, it is deep to me. That's why I'm also intentional about extending the same care to others with names that reflect their culture, language, and proud lineage. I resonate deeply with Netflix's "The Residence" actor Uzo Aduba's quote on her own name: "My mom taught me not to change my name for those unwilling to learn it. If they can learn to say Tchaikovsky, Dostoyevsky, and Michelangelo, they can learn to say Uzoamaka." For a long time, I didn't fully grasp the weight of that statement. Back in school, I would shy away from correcting my teachers. I used to feel embarrassed. However, as an adult, I've learned to reclaim the beauty of my name and correct people without feeling like I was doing too much. I correct people in professional settings These days, when I get a "Hey, Jasley!" email, I correct the sender with a simple line like "By the way, my name is spelled Jasely" or "I noticed you spelled this way, but my name's actually spelled like this." No one has ever gotten upset when I corrected them. In fact, they usually appreciate the clarification, apologize, and move forward with the correct spelling. I may not be Dostoyevsky, Freud, or Arnold Schwarzenegger, but my name carries just as much weight. My identity is beautifully woven into it.
Yahoo
28-07-2025
- Yahoo
My husband and I moved in with my in-laws because we can't afford a home in Houston. We have zero privacy, but we're saving money.
My husband and I can't afford a starter home in Houston, so we had to move in with his parents. The living arrangement is difficult because we have no privacy, but my in-laws are also helpful. I'm not sure how long we'll be here, but I'm glad this is an option for us as we save money. I never thought I'd find myself arguing about dryer sheets with my mother-in-law at midnight, but that's my new reality. A few years ago, my husband and I moved in with his parents because the rent in Houston was eating into our savings. A "temporary stay" at my in-laws was supposed to be a temporary solution. We estimated six months, tops. Now it's three years, two career changes, and many "Are you still there?" jokes from my sister. Although we're saving money, it comes at a cost, as I've learned you can't hide in a multigenerational household. It's not easy living with my in-laws for this long I feel like I'm always sneaking around. I often creep into the kitchen early in the morning to prepare coffee without waking my mother-in-law up early. Date nights are like an escape plan. My husband and I whisper what we're streaming on Netflix because the television in our room has a wall that my in-laws' closet shares. Our arguments stay half-whispered, half-swallowed. Thin walls are our biggest problem. Irritants become daily tightropes, too. I once found my wet laundry heaped in a basket. There was no note, just a crisply folded pair of jeans that never quite dried. I was annoyed but couldn't say anything. There is a whole choreography to claiming fridge shelves, freezer space, and the prime pantry corner. We also have to label our leftovers in Sharpie so no one "accidentally" eats our takeout after a late night. I realize there are benefits to this living arrangement If you're imagining anarchy, you're on the right track, but that's only half the picture. There are perks that I sometimes forget about. When both my husband and I got COVID, my mother-in-law filled our bedroom doorway with soup, saltines, and bottomless mugs of mint tea. When our toddler threw a tantrum because I cut his toast "incorrectly," my father-in-law leapt into the conversation and calmed him down in the way only granddads can. I have watched my son spend more time with grandparents in one week than I did in a year. I also get cooking lessons from my mother-in-law; she taught me to make tamales on Christmas. We worked together, using her mother's steamer pot, which is older than my marriage. Either way, this is where my family needs to be right now Some days, it's stifling. Other days, it's the only reason we're still afloat. In Houston, starter homes look like luxury listings. This arrangement means our savings account exists at all. It means backup when day care falls through or the car breaks down. It means someone slips a plate of mango slices into my hand when they know I've had a rough day. The American dream needs a rewrite; sometimes it is not a white picket fence but a third fork at the dinner table, an in-law on the couch in the middle of a telenovela, and a sign that you don't have to do it all alone. Do I dream about owning my own place someday? Yeah. I dream of shutting a door and knowing nobody else can hear. But when we finally unpack that last moving box, if we ever do, I will miss the smell of tortillas in the morning, the stories of distant cousins I never met, and the way this messy, chaotic house has quietly taught me that family isn't just who you wed. Read the original article on Business Insider Solve the daily Crossword