As a teenager, I would often trust a mate with my deepest secrets, only to realise that friend was actually a frenemy. There were tears but it was all a normal part of growing up and learning how to navigate friendships.I thought I’d left that phase behind but then, aged 47, I met a midlife mean girl.You’d think that by our 40s or 50s, everyone would have grown up and moved beyond playground gossiping. Surely we’re all too busy raising kids, looking after ageing parents and juggling work demands?But these women still walk among us. And it took me seeing some shocking phone messages to realise.That stomach-churning moment – when it was clear people were talking about me behind my back – led to me ending a friendship and leaving a WhatsApp group I’d been part of for a decade.It happened earlier this year on a girls’ weekend away. I’d been looking forward to it for months. We’d been friends since our kids started school and had gone through a lot together – babies, divorce, lockdown, loss, new jobs.Around 12 of us would get together every month for a Prosecco-filled evening. It was a safe space, where we shared, listened and laughed.This girls’ weekend away promised more of the same. The last time had been so good for the soul, we’d joked we should move into a commune together. This trip turned out very differently. Alison Perry expected her Prosecco-filled weekend away to be filled with laughter and happy memories, but in reality it turned out to be quite the opposite (picture posed by models)Not long after arriving, I settled on a sofa with a cup of tea next to my friend Arabella. She was scrolling on her phone and saw a funny video. ‘Have you seen this?’ she asked me.As I watched the clip, two WhatsApp notifications appeared at the top of the screen. I didn’t recognise the name of the person sending them but I recognised the content as a gossipy, unkind conversation about the weekend away, and, specifically, me.One of the messages read, ‘Let me know when AP kicks off’. The messages seemed to be asking Arabella to report to them on what I was saying and doing. I was so stunned to find my friend bitching about me, I half expected her to turn around and tell me it was about someone else with the same initials.I quickly gave the phone back to Arabella, feeling sick, my heart racing. My instinct in this kind of situation is to smile and pretend nothing is wrong, as I hate confrontation. So I said nothing and took myself off to my room where tears flowed. ‘Should I just pack up and leave, making an excuse?’ I thought. ‘Or say nothing and try to get through the weekend?’Granted, I hadn’t seen any unkind messages from Arabella but it seemed she was in a chat where slagging me off was acceptable. Why wasn’t she sticking up for me? I decided to message another friend – who was also in the group but not on the weekend away – telling her what had happened. She called me and said, ‘You’re carrying the weight of this right now, what would it feel like to give it back to her?’If something like this happened to one of my three daughters (aged seven to 15), I wouldn’t hesitate to have the difficult conversation on their behalf. I realised I needed to do the same thing for myself.I mustered up all my bravery and calmly spoke to Arabella. I picked a quiet moment when there was only one other person around because I didn’t want to risk spoiling the weekend. She saw two 'gossipy' and 'unkind' messages about her on a friend's phone. But when Alison confronted her, she was chastised for 'invading her privacy' (picture posed by model)‘I saw some messages pop up on your phone that seemed to be talking about me,’ I said. ‘Were they?’She shrugged, picked up her phone and scrolled through it, as if looking for the messages. Part of me wondered if she might show me her phone to prove it was a silly misunderstanding but instead she shook her head and told me she had no idea what the messages meant.Clearly, she didn’t have an adequate explanation. The weekend continued – albeit marred for me – and I avoided Arabella as much as possible and made sure I didn’t say anything in her presence that could be reported back to these other friends. When we got home, I sent Arabella a message telling her I felt really uncomfortable with what I’d seen, that there was an unkind vibe to them and I felt they’d ruined what was once a safe space.I’d hoped she might suggest meeting for a coffee, perhaps to admit that yes, there had been a bit of bitchy chat but she hadn’t been part of it. Instead, she told me she was annoyed I’d read personal messages and said she couldn’t be held responsible for what others sent to her.So it was clear Arabella was no friend. I’d given her two chances to make things OK and instead she’d deflected and tried to blame me for what happened. I felt really sad but I was proud I’d stuck up for myself.A month later, after weeks of feeling horrible whenever I saw her name pop up on the WhatsApp group, I left the chat and stopped going to the monthly meet-ups.I mentioned what had happened to a few friends in the group and while they were sympathetic, as far as I know no one has spoken to her about it or acknowledged me leaving in the group chat.Do they think I’m being a drama queen? Or are they too busy to pay attention? I don’t know and perhaps it doesn’t matter. I do know that I only want to spend time with people who respect me – and creating this boundary, although it’s brought me a sense of loss, is one of the best things I’ve done in years.Names and identifying details have been changed.