When Loyalty Becomes One-Sided: The Quiet Grief of Outgrowing People We Once Admired

I recently found myself buying half of an entire collection from a designer I no longer felt fully aligned with. It wasn’t planned. I certainly couldn’t justify it financially. But I felt compelled. Not in a manic, must-buy-now kind of way—but in a strange, almost spiritual pull. And it left me sitting in a familiar ache I couldn’t quite name.

We had history. I’d supported them early on when no one knew their name. I bought pieces I didn’t need, gave them public support when the tide turned against them, and showed up generously even during the times when I had very little to give. There had been a few quiet betrayals over the years—small dismissals, withheld gestures, moments where I needed humanity and got calculation instead. But I kept showing up anyway. I wanted to believe in their goodness more than I trusted what I felt.

Until recently. When the energy shifted.

There was a moment when my body says enough. It was about witnessing how often we give from a place of loyalty, even when the relationship has stopped feeling reciprocal. It was about noticing how we sometimes overgive right before a karmic door quietly closes.

“Sometimes the most generous thing we can do for ourselves is to see people clearly, not harshly—but truthfully.

And from that clarity, choose where our energy still wants to go.”

I don’t regret supporting them. I think part of me needed to honour who they once were to me, and who I once was to them. But I also think I was energetically closing a loop. Like a final thank you and goodbye rolled into one. A soul transaction wrapped in shopping bags.

In the weeks since, I’ve noticed a strange sense of peace. I’ve also noticed how many others around me are quietly reckoning with their own relationships—with brands, with identities, with people they once placed on pedestals. There’s a collective shift happening, especially among women. We’re seeing the cracks in curated personas. We’re understanding that being “supportive” doesn’t mean being silent. We’re beginning to choose discernment over blind loyalty.

Sometimes the most generous thing we can do for ourselves is to see people clearly, not harshly—but truthfully. And from that clarity, choose where our energy still wants to go.

Because love isn’t always about staying.

Sometimes, it’s about bowing out with grace.