Cactus or Orchid?
Friendships are like plants - the secret is knowing which ones belong in your garden
I celebrated a big birthday recently (21 again, obviously), and as I looked out at a room packed with friends I’ve known and loved for decades, I felt ridiculously lucky.
Many had flown over to Spain for less than 48 hours just to be there. And as I took in their wonderfully familiar, smiling, slightly sunburnt faces, I realised something important…
They all had one thing in common.
They were Cactus Friends. 🌵
Now, before you picture a room full of spiky individuals refusing hugs and barking, “Hands off! That jug of sangria is mine,” allow me to explain.
After years of being mildly obsessed with gardening, I’ve observed that friends often fall into two groups: Orchids and Cacti.
Orchid Plants are stunning and entirely Instagram-ready. But they can be dramatic. They require attention, precise conditions and possibly a carefully curated Spotify playlist. Miss one instruction and they collapse in a heap.
I once moved an Orchid Plant two inches to the left. It died immediately. Just to prove a point.
Cactus Plants, meanwhile, are the strong, silent types. Give them an occasional splash of water and they simply get on with things.
Sturdy. Steady. Gloriously low maintenance.
Much like Cactus Friends.
Independent souls who shine without needing to dazzle. They don’t compete or play games. Disappear for a while and reappear with, “Sorry, I’ve been swamped,” and they’ll simply say, “No worries. Wine?”
But when you really need them, they are there. No conditions. No emotional invoice. They have your back, just as you have theirs.
Time spent together feels effortless and joyful. You leave nourished and supported, never drained.
Orchid Friends can be somewhat different.
Especially the intensely charming variety. “I've never felt this close to anyone!” they announce approximately seven minutes after learning your surname.
At first the love-bombing feels rather flattering. Until you notice that they’ve somehow become woven into every corner of your life and you’re not entirely sure when or how that happened.
Then comes the drama. Highly watchable from the sofa, perhaps, but considerably less entertaining when you find yourself in the middle of it. Which may explain why their friendship circles have a surprisingly high turnover.
But being a kind-hearted Cactus type, you listen to their stories of woe, reassure, sympathise and show up.
Then, over time, something begins to feel... off.
Patterns emerge. Stories sound hollow. Certain behaviours make you uneasy. You ask questions, step back or become less willing to play your allotted role.
And suddenly the atmosphere changes.
Rather than pausing for reflection, highly defensive Orchid typess cannot cope with uncomfortable truths, so when they feel exposed, they immediately seek to steady the shifting ground beneath them, usually with denials and fantastical new versions of events in which they somehow manage to paint themselves as some kind of victim.
There is a name for this pattern: DARVO - Deny, Attack, Reverse Victim and Offender and it is sometimes associated with Covert or Fragile Narcissistic Personality Types. Sympathy is sought. Chaos and division in friend groups is created. Their twisted narrative gets polished with every retelling until you wonder whether you somehow wandered into an entirely different film halfway through.
It can be very sad to witness, and Cactus types tend to observe proceedings with a mixture of compassion, mild bewilderment and quiet anthropological curiosity.
But occasionally, another creature appears amongst the Orchids. Or a hybrid. Allow me to introduce the Social Cuckoo.
A bird you really don't want nesting in your friendship garden.
Like its feathered namesake, the Social Cuckoo doesn't merely settle into the nest. It gradually begins edging out what was already there.
This is the new friend who enthusiastically embraces your people and develops friendships with them independently. Nothing wrong with that at all. Friends becoming friends is viewed as a dear compliment amongst generous Cactus folk.
The warning sign comes when those relationships begin to be used strategically, particularly after you question their behaviour or step away.
Suddenly, the very friendships into which you welcomed them and trusted them with become the territory in which a distorted narrative about you is established - the Social Cuckoo always seeking, at any cost, to elicit an ‘oh poor you’ response from their new target.
And Social Cuckoos rarely arrive flapping their wings and announcing their intentions, which makes them enormously convincing. An Oscar-worthy tear subtly wiped away here. A sad shrug there. Which is precisely why intelligent, kind-hearted people can be taken in so easily.
Whatever lies behind this narcissistic behaviour - insecurity, a desperate need for validation, fear of rejection or something more troubling - you don't need to diagnose it.
You only need to recognise when a friendship has stopped feeling like a friendship.
And perhaps that is the most important lesson.
You can have compassion for someone without surrendering your peace and your boundaries to them.
So, genuinely wishing them well, you make a gentle, dignified exit and find your way back to the easy, restorative joy of your Cactus Friends, who welcome you with open arms.
And more often than not, wine. 🍷
Key takeaway
Long-lasting, low-stress, nurturing friendships are one of life's great contributors to happiness, health and wellbeing.
So tend your friendship garden with kindness - but also with awareness.
Avoid the Orchids. Beware the Cuckoos. Cherish the Cacti.
Some friendships grow alongside us for decades, while others arrive only for a season. And that's perfectly okay. Letting relationships ebb, shift or loosen isn't failure.
It's simply part of life. 🌿🌿🌿