While I often walk in to a room since having children and forget why I am there, I recently had to admit a serious overall decline in my short-term memory. Worse yet, I had to openly admit it to several friends, because it involved lending something to someone and then forgetting whom I lent it to.

The email announcing and acknowledging my decline, and begging for any help in regaining some foothold over events past went went something like this:

“Dear Friends - This is one of those instances when I have a vague recollection of something and nothing else. I can attribute this to many things: small children, too much alcohol, not enough sleep. The potential reasons run the gamut. In the end, I simply have to ask the question and see if anyone can answer it…

I vaguely recall lending someone my video camera. It may have been on Memorial Day weekend. Not really sure. Were any of you the lucky recipients? I wanted to see if I could get it back at some point. I went to get it over the weekend to tape the girls acting like dragons and scaring everyone. And then, it hit me that I have no recollection of where it landed.  Please help.”

Now, this is pathetic, but true. Even better, a friend came forward to say that she had it, but based on who it turned out to be, the date of the video camera hand-off was nowhere near Memorial Day. It had to be early May based on the last time I saw her. And so it goes… time passes and I have no awareness of it; things happen and I have limited memory of them.

Luckily, I remember who my friends are and so I know who to ask to help me find the way back.  In this moment I realize that, without them and my family, all time would look more or less the same when looking backwards.

I have been noticing more and more that the term “toxic friend” is becoming part of everyday conversations. If you could never quite put your finger on why you have a pit in your stomach when you see certain friends, or why you see friends out of obligation when you really would rather not, the term “toxic friend” gives them a place to live in your rolodex.

I recently had the opportunity to attend the 2009 NY Women in Communications Matrix awards luncheon, which is an event that honors women who have made outstanding contributions to the field of communications. One of the honorees was Sherrie Rollins Westin, the CMO of Sesame Street workshop. Her presenter was Joan Ganz Cooney, a co-founder of the workshop. In trying to describe Westin, she recalled a friend of hers who suggested she throw herself a birthday party. Cooney replied “I will only have a party of the people invited are people towards whom I have no indifference.” The friend who suggested she have the party replied that if she applied that thinking to her own life, she wouldn’t be able to invite her 5 best friends. The point of the story was to say that Westin would have been among the quests had she known her at the time, but the comment has stayed with me.

Over time, I have seen many friendships come and go. Much of this is the stuff of life: we graduate high school, we go to college, we change jobs, we marry, we have children, we move. I can clearly point to several friendship-changing events like this in my life, most notably moving from Toronto to New York in 1998 after a tough and seemingly endless breakup with my then boyfriend, to try to give my life and my career a fresh start in a new place. I’ve also found that having children has fundamentally changed friendships, mostly because - more than any other life event - it completely changes how you spend every moment of your day and how you make every single decision that impacts your life. When faced with the decision to spend an evening with my children or spend an evening having drinks with someone “towards whom I have some indifference” the choice has become easier.

What hasn’t is the guilt that comes with it. I have tried to be self-aware about the decisions I have made to let go of certain friendships. To consciously evaluate my relationships with others, in addition to evaluating some of my unconscious acts (such as completely forgetting that I was supposed to meet someone for drinks - something I remembered only after having changed out of work clothes to roll around on the ground with my kids). I would have thought that all the negative feelings brought on my these “toxic friends” and my decision to distance myself from them would have eased my feelings of loss, but every once in a while there is a pang of guilt or mourning for the friendship that it gone.

I wonder if it’s partly that I grew up with many acquaintances, but few good friends and feel that even the loss of one is enormous; or if it is because my parents instilled in me a great sense of biting my tongue and being polite under all circumstances. Or, perhaps it’s simply that I wish it didn’t need to be so. We’ve all heard it said, “why can’t we all just get along?”

But it does need to happen. More than it being a decision of bitterness or hurt or even hatred, the decision to leave a toxic friend behind needs to be made for the sake of your happiness. No life is perfect, but to make it the best life we can possibly live it needs fine-tuning, just like your body, just like your career. While these decisions are tough, we can’t shy away from them, because ultimately, removing toxic people from your life is just like removing toxins from your body. We must, or we will become sick - figuratively or literally. While that doesn’t make the decisions any easier, it creates focus for them. A goal - the goal to be happy - complete for all of us with happiness’ ups and downs.