Bitch Bonding: What the Actual F**k?

When tearing someone else down becomes the foundation of a friendship. Let's talk about something that genuinely baffles me.

Bitch Bonding. What the actual fluff is that about? You know the situation. Two people meet. They want to be friends. Perhaps they don't have much in common, perhaps they're a little socially awkward, or perhaps they're both desperate to belong. So what do they do?

• Do they discover a shared love of music?

• Talk about their hobbies?

• Discuss their hopes, dreams or favourite biscuits?

  
  

No!! They find someone they can both bitch about. And just like that, a beautiful friendship is born. Except it isn't beautiful, is it? It's a friendship built on somebody else's back. And psychologically, I find that absolutely fascinating.

First, a little confession

I don't particularly like talking about people behind their backs. It makes me deeply uncomfortable.

Part of that comes from my own mental health. I have diagnosed OCD, and one of the ways it affects me involves morality, guilt and an overwhelming sense of responsibility. If I say something unkind about someone, my brain doesn't simply move on. Oh no. It likes to remind me of it, make me feel absolutely dreadful and occasionally convince me that something terrible might happen as a consequence. Lovely. Thanks, brain.

I'm also autistic, which means certain social behaviours can be particularly confusing to me. I've spent a significant amount of my life wondering why people do the things they do. In fact, that curiosity was one of the reasons I went on to study psychology at master's level. I wanted to understand people. And yet, despite all that studying, there are still moments when I look at human behaviour and think: What are we doing?

Bitch bonding is one of them. Now, I recognise that my own discomfort around gossip is influenced by my OCD. I don't expect everyone to experience these conversations in the same way I do. But I do think there's an important difference between talking about somebody and deliberately tearing somebody down to make yourself feel closer to somebody else. And that difference matters.

So, what actually is bitch bonding?

Bitch bonding is my name for a particular type of social connection in which two or more people strengthen their relationship through shared criticism, ridicule or hostility towards somebody else.

It's not a formal psychological diagnosis or established clinical term. But the behaviours behind it are very real.

Imagine meeting somebody new. You want them to like you. You want to feel accepted. You want that lovely little feeling of belonging. Then one of you mentions another person. "Oh my God, do you know Sarah?" "Yes! I can't stand her!" And suddenly you've found common ground. You exchange stories. You share opinions. You reveal things you probably shouldn't. You laugh. You feel connected.

You've found your person. Or have you? Because what you've actually discovered is that you both enjoy criticising Sarah. Congratulations. You now have a friendship with the emotional foundations of a damp cardboard box.

The psychology behind bitch bonding

Here's where things get interesting. Human beings are social creatures. We have a powerful need to belong, to feel accepted and to know where we fit within a group. And sometimes, one of the quickest ways to create an us is to identify a them. Psychologists call this in-group and out-group behaviour. We naturally categorise ourselves and other people into social groups.

These group identities can help us feel connected, but they can also encourage favouritism towards our own group and hostility towards outsiders. In other words: "We're together because we're not like her." It's a remarkably effective shortcut to social connection. But it comes at a cost.

1. Shared negativity creates instant intimacy

When somebody shares a negative opinion about another person, they're revealing something socially sensitive. And when you agree, you're signalling that you're on their side. It can feel like trust. It can feel like loyalty. It can even feel like intimacy. But sharing a secret isn't the same thing as building trust. Sometimes you've simply given another person information they could use against you later.

2. It creates an illusion of safety

This is the part I find particularly interesting. If we're both criticising Sarah, then presumably neither of us is Sarah's friend. We're allies. We're safe. Except we're not, are we? Because you've just watched this person demonstrate how they speak about somebody who isn't in the room. What makes you think you're exempt? And once you've participated, you might start worrying about what happens if you disagree.

What if you decide Sarah is actually quite nice? What if you refuse to join in next time? What if you become friends with her? Suddenly, the friendship may feel less secure. And that's because some relationships built around a common enemy become dependent on maintaining that enemy. That's not friendship. That's social hostage-taking with a side of coffee.

3. It can become a form of social control

Not every instance of bitch bonding is calculated manipulation. Sometimes people are insecure. Sometimes they're anxious. Sometimes they're simply copying behaviour they've learned from the people around them. But sometimes it becomes something much more deliberate. One person establishes who's acceptable and who's not. Others demonstrate loyalty by agreeing. Disagreement becomes dangerous. And before long, people are participating in conversations they don't even feel comfortable having, simply because they don't want to become the next target.

This is where gossip can become relational aggression — behaviour intended to damage someone's relationships, social standing or sense of belonging. And it can be incredibly damaging. Especially when you're young.

Why I'm teaching my daughter about it

My daughter is navigating secondary school. And, bloody hell, the social politics of teenage friendships can be brutal. One minute everybody is best friends. The next minute somebody has apparently committed a crime against humanity because they sat next to the wrong person at lunch.

But underneath the drama are some very real psychological needs.

Children and teenagers want to belong. They want to be liked. They want to feel safe within their friendship groups. And when you're young, social rejection can feel enormous. So when somebody invites you into a conversation about another girl, it might feel like acceptance. It might feel like you've been chosen. Like you're part of the inner circle. But here's what I want my daughter to understand.

Being included in somebody else's cruelty is not the same as being valued. And somebody saying horrible things about you doesn't automatically mean those things are true. Sometimes the conversation has very little to do with you at all. You might simply be the convenient person they've chosen to discuss. That doesn't make the behaviour harmless. Words can hurt, rumours can damage reputations and bullying needs to be taken seriously. But understanding the social dynamics can help take away some of their power.

You don't have to accept somebody else's opinion as your identity. And you certainly don't have to retaliate by becoming just like them. You can be angry. You can stand up for yourself. You can establish boundaries. You can report bullying and expect adults to take action. But you don't have to join the same toxic game. Because the moment you start tearing other people down to protect your place in a group, you're helping to keep that behaviour alive. And I want better than that for her.

But isn't gossip normal?

Yes. And let's be sensible about this. Sometimes people behave like absolute arseholes. Sometimes they hurt us. Sometimes we need to talk about what happened, process our feelings, seek reassurance or warn other people about genuinely harmful behaviour. I have a very short list of people whose behaviour I am perfectly comfortable criticising. I'm not pretending to be some permanently serene woodland fairy who floats around forgiving everybody. Absolutely not.

But there's a difference between saying: "That person really hurt me, and I need to talk about it." And saying: "Shall we spend the next forty minutes destroying somebody's character so we can feel better about ourselves?" One is processing an experience. The other is using another human being as entertainment or social currency. And those are not the same thing.

Is bitch bonding really about insecurity?

Sometimes, yes. A person who feels socially insecure may seek reassurance through agreement.

Somebody who fears exclusion might join in because they don't want to become the outsider. Social comparison can also play a role. If someone feels threatened by another person's success, appearance, confidence or popularity, criticising that person may temporarily protect their own self-esteem. But insecurity isn't the only possible explanation.

Status-seeking, conformity, resentment, learned social habits and a desire for influence can all contribute. And some people simply enjoy gossip. We should be careful not to diagnose somebody as a narcissist just because they behave unkindly. Not every unpleasant person has a personality disorder. Sometimes people are just being dickheads. And sometimes they need to take responsibility for that.

Women, can we please stop doing this to each other?

This is the part that really gets to me. Women already face enough social pressures. We're judged for our appearance, our bodies, our parenting, our relationships, our careers, our sexuality, our age and whether we're apparently ageing appropriately.

• Too ambitious.

• Not ambitious enough.

• Too confident.

• Too quiet.

• Too pretty.

• Trying too hard.

• Not making enough effort.

Can we win? And while these pressures aren't created exclusively by men, many are rooted in longstanding inequalities and expectations about how women should behave. So why would we want to reinforce them ourselves? Why are we sometimes so reluctant to celebrate one another?

• A woman starts a business. Support her.

• A woman posts a picture because she feels beautiful. Tell her she looks beautiful.

• A woman gets promoted. Celebrate her.

• A woman is struggling. Help her.

Another woman's success is not evidence of your failure. Her beauty doesn't make you ugly. Her confidence doesn't make you inadequate. Her happiness doesn't take anything away from yours. There is enough room for all of us to rise. And surely, surely, that's a much nicer way to build a community.

How to avoid getting dragged into bitch bonding

Now, I appreciate that this is easier said than done. Particularly if you're young, socially anxious or desperate to fit in. But there are ways to avoid participating without turning every conversation into a moral lecture. You can simply say:

• "I've never had a problem with her, to be fair."

• "I don't really know her well enough to judge."

• "That sounds like something you should probably talk to her about."

• "Anyway, changing the subject..."

• "I don't feel comfortable talking about someone who isn't here."

  
  

You don't have to confront everybody. You don't have to defend every person on the planet. And you certainly don't have to become the friendship police. Sometimes you can simply refuse to contribute. I've reached an age where I'm increasingly comfortable saying that a conversation makes me uncomfortable. And if necessary, I'll leave. Life is too short to spend it participating in social nonsense that makes you feel like rubbish!

And if you're the bitch bonder?

Well, this might be a slightly uncomfortable read. But perhaps that's not a bad thing. Ask yourself why you feel the need to criticise somebody else to connect with another person.

• Are you worried they won't like you otherwise?

• Are you trying to prove your loyalty?

• Do you feel threatened by the person you're talking about?

• Are you trying to gain status within a group?

• Or has it simply become a habit?

You don't need to hate yourself for recognising an unhealthy behaviour. But you do need to take responsibility for changing it. Find something else to talk about. Develop actual interests.

Ask people questions. Be curious. Be funny. Be kind. And if you genuinely don't like somebody, that's fine. You don't have to like everybody. You don't have to be everybody's friend. But you can dislike someone without launching a bloody recruitment campaign.

Let's build something better

One of the reasons I created Caterpillar Rising was because I wanted women to have a place where they could feel supported rather than judged. A community where another woman's success is celebrated, not resented. Where vulnerability isn't weaponised. Where people can disagree without becoming enemies. Where we recognise that everybody is carrying something we might not understand. I don't want friendships built around who we dislike. I want friendships built around who we are.

• Our values.

• Our humour.

• Our interests.

• Our experiences.

• Our hopes.

• Our ridiculous conversations about absolutely nothing.

  
  

Because real friendship shouldn't require a common enemy. It should provide a common sense of belonging. And if the only thing holding your friendship together is somebody else's downfall, perhaps it's time to ask whether there's actually a friendship there at all.

Stop bitch bonding. Start building each other up!

We're all trying to navigate this ridiculous, complicated thing called life.

Wouldn't it be lovely if we made it a little easier for each other?

Heal. Rise. Pass it on.

Caterpillar Rising