Beyoncé, a Broken Toe, and Gaslighting
I didn’t think women could gaslight other women—until it happened to me.
And when it did, I questioned everything.
My memory.
My details.
My truth.
I had a broken toe, a ticket to see Beyoncé, and a friend who left me alone at Soldier Field. When I told her how much that hurt, she didn’t apologize.
She gaslit me instead.
This story isn’t just about friendship gone wrong—it’s about boundaries, betrayal, and becoming the woman who refuses to abandon herself.
I didn’t think women could gaslight other women—until it happened to me.
And when it did, I questioned everything.
My memory.
My details.
My truth.
I knew I asked her to stay with me until the wheelchair pusher came after the show. But when I brought it up, she spun the story so hard I started doubting myself.
But let’s rewind. First, what is gaslighting?
Gaslighting Explained
Gaslighting is a form of psychological manipulation where someone causes another person to doubt their memory, perception, or sanity. Over time, it can make the victim question their entire reality.
The term comes from the 1938 play Gas Light, where a husband slowly drives his wife insane by dimming the gas lights in their home—then denying it ever happened.
Back to the Story
I had tickets to see Beyoncé’s Cowboy Carter tour in Chicago. My friend and I had done this same trip from Cleveland before for the Renaissance Tour. The plan was simple: she’d drive, I’d cover tolls.
But when I kept asking about the details—when we’d leave, where she was staying—things got vague. She mentioned bringing her pets and said she’d be staying with another friend instead of with me and my family.
The more I asked, the more it felt like pulling teeth. I still didn’t know when we were leaving, and my cousin kept asking so she could plan her schedule too.
Eventually, I told her I’d fly out Friday. She hadn’t finalized anything, and I wanted to spend time with my family. She said that was fine—actually, she seemed relieved. Said she didn’t want to make me uncomfortable and that now she could stay longer.
Then I broke my toe.
I had just arrived at my stepmother’s house. I turned off the light, went to settle in the room I always stay in, and bam—smashed my toe on the couch leg.
When I turned the light back on, I saw my third toe bent unnaturally away from the others. My cousin helped me tape it up. My stepbrother offered to take me to the ER, but I waited for urgent care the next morning.
I texted my friend early to check in—she said she’d leave late morning. But then… no follow-up. Eventually, she told me she was leaving Saturday. That still worked, since the concert was Sunday night.
But here’s the kicker: when she finally told me where she was staying, I realized it was 90 minutes north of where I was. She had known this the whole time and didn’t tell me.
How were we supposed to meet up for a show downtown?
She arrived early Sunday—as in just after midnight. She had invited another friend to join us too, so I texted the group: “Hey, my toe is broken. Can you meet me at the gate and walk me to our seats on level 3?”
They didn’t.
Not the way you’d think.
My chaotic journey to the show
My stepbrother lent me boots that didn’t press on my toe. He and my cousin drove me downtown. Normally a 30-minute drive, but traffic was insane.
We missed our drop-off. A rickshaw pulled up. They encouraged me to take it. I paid $20 and it dropped me at a police barricade—still 15–20 minutes from the stadium.
An officer suggested I try a scooter. I got one, but it wouldn’t kick in fully (my first time with this brand). So, with a broken toe, I pushed myself down a hill, under an overpass, past the Field Museum—finally reaching Soldier Field.
The app wouldn’t let me park.
Turns out I was in a no-parking zone.
I had to go all the way back. Down the hill. Under the overpass. Beyoncé started singing. Still no text from my friend.
I hobbled back. Got a wheelchair. Finally reached our section. At some point, she finally texted, “Where are you?”
I tried to let it go and enjoy the show. I even told them bits of what happened. And when it ended, I asked—again—“Please stay with me until I get the wheelchair.”
We took a few photos. Chatted.
Then her friend’s sister texted that she had arrived to pick them up—and they left.
Yes.
They left me.
Security told me I couldn’t stay where I was. I needed to move. I explained I was waiting for a wheelchair. My phone was blowing up from my family, trying to coordinate pickup—but I had no answers.
About 30 minutes later, the wheelchair came. They rolled me to the edge of the stadium grounds.
I hobbled back under that overpass again to meet my family.
Processing the pain
Later, I told my friend I was hurt and disappointed. That it felt like she picked someone else over me. That I felt abandoned.
That’s when the gaslighting began.
She flipped the script.
Said I hadn’t told her what I needed.
Said she chose herself that night.
Said I wasn’t being a good friend.
I reminded her: I had asked clearly. I had forgiven her—multiple times.
Her response?
She sent me a link to Soldier Field’s ADA accommodations and asked why I didn’t request help.
Ma’am.
I go hard for my friends.
My birth chart confirms what I already know: I’m loyal. I’m generous. I’m there.
But in that moment, I realized something: she was projecting. She felt guilty. I named it. Her response? She told me I was the one feeling guilty.
That’s when I knew:
The friendship was done.
Energetic Fractures & Emotional Truth
Bioenergetics says the fracture happens in your energy field before it happens in real life. Dr. Sue Morter writes in The Energy Codes that those who constantly serve others—and never allow themselves to receive—will eventually “fracture” so they can learn to receive love.
That hit deep.
I don’t do passive-aggressive.
I can’t stand liars.
And I don’t tolerate manipulation.
Thirty minutes of circular talk was enough. I ended the convo with: “I love you.”
She responded with a long text—no apology.
I replied: “I forgive you. We need space.”
She responded with more shots.
So I talked to my best friend. Asked her if she saw anything in me I needed to change. Her answer?
“I rebuke that! It’s not you. Study your birth chart.”
So I did.
And let me tell you—learning about myself like this?
It’s been refreshing and rewarding.
What I’ve Learned
Stand your ground with kindness
Keep firm boundaries
Don’t argue or go back and forth
Know when you’re being gaslit
Mourn the loss of the friendship
Practice self-study
Recommended Resource
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