AITA for refusing to give my friend my boyfriend’s phone number?

A woman drew a firm line by refusing to share her boyfriend’s phone number or create a group chat with him and her longtime friend, fearing history would repeat itself. Years earlier, the same friend had pursued and hooked up with the woman’s feelings-involved friends-with-benefits after being added to a group chat she initiated.

Now, after a dinner where the friend flirted with the boyfriend behind her back, and recent requests for a three-way chat “to ask a question,” the woman sees clear red flags. She blocked the group-chat idea outright. While she acknowledges the friend has been like family since childhood—her parents are close with hers—she admits the past betrayal hurt deeply and she’s ready to create more distance.

‘AITA for refusing to give my friend my boyfriend’s phone number?’

The trouble traces back to a painful betrayal with a previous connection.

Patterns resurfaced when the friend met her current boyfriend.

The latest request pushed her to refuse completely.

The friend’s history—knowingly pursuing someone the woman cared about after being included in a group chat—already damaged trust. When similar behavior emerged with the boyfriend (flirting privately, then pushing for direct contact), the woman’s refusal to facilitate access feels like a reasonable self-protective boundary. Sharing a partner’s number without consent, especially under suspicious circumstances, can open doors to inappropriate contact and erode relationship security.

Her boyfriend shut down the flirtation himself, showing mutual respect, yet the friend’s persistence suggests she disregards that boundary. Protecting a committed partnership often requires limiting exposure to people who have demonstrated unreliable or predatory tendencies toward partners.

Counter views might argue that refusing a simple group chat or number exchange appears overly controlling or paranoid, especially since no explicit wrongdoing has occurred this time. They could suggest open confrontation first—telling the friend exactly why the request feels unsafe—before cutting contact.

However, given the documented pattern and the friend’s awareness of past pain, waiting for another incident risks greater hurt. Long-term “family” ties complicate detachment, but emotional history doesn’t obligate anyone to tolerate ongoing disrespect or risk to their well-being.

On a wider level, stories like this highlight how some friendships persist out of obligation or nostalgia rather than mutual care. When one person repeatedly prioritizes their desires over another’s feelings—especially in romantic contexts—it signals a one-sided dynamic. Prioritizing a healthy relationship and personal peace sometimes means redefining closeness, even with childhood connections.

Here’s how people reacted to the post:

Nearly everyone supports the woman’s decision, urging her to recognize the “friend” isn’t acting like one and to prioritize her relationship.

A few share similar experiences, reinforcing that distance is often the healthiest choice.

Others keep it direct, calling out the pattern and advising to end the friendship.

The consensus is clear: refusing to hand over the boyfriend’s contact or create the group chat is a justified boundary, especially with a proven history of overstepping. Many see the friendship itself as the bigger problem, rooted more in obligation than genuine support.

Do you think she should have one final, direct conversation laying out why the behavior is unacceptable before going low- or no-contact, or is the refusal enough? Would you keep a childhood “family friend” around after repeated romantic boundary crosses, or cut ties to protect your relationship? Drop your thoughts in the comments.