

Not everyone who claps is clapping for you.
Not everyone who smiles is safe. Sometimes the very ones we trusted with our hearts are the ones who step back when we start to shine.
Some relationships begin with thunderous applause — words of admiration, support, shared dreams and late-night prayers. It feels like a covenant. Like family. Like forever.
Until... it fades.
Not because you changed, but because you grew and sometimes, growth makes people uncomfortable — especially those who only knew how to love the version of you that needed fixing.
It’s hard to accept, but I’m slowly beginning to see it with clearer eyes — how some connections fray the moment we grow beyond what they can carry. What once felt like a safe space begins to feel... tight. Constrained. Like a garment we’ve outgrown.
Some people don’t truly love you. They love your need for them. You were a project, a ministry, a story they felt part of — until your healing exposed their wounds... the ones they’ve kept hidden, perhaps even from themselves. Some people relate to you more when you're broken, because it makes them feel needed. Healed you? 🤔 Whole you? 🤔That may ask them to look at wounds they’d rather ignore.
And then there are those who once cheered — but now watch in silence. Especially when the people who once championed your becoming no longer have room for your becoming more.
The dynamic shifts. The warmth cools. Invitations stop. They say less, and what they do say feels filtered through discomfort or comparison. The air shifts. Messages go unanswered. Conversations become awkward. They’re not always cruel, just... absent. Distant. Maybe even quiet disdain. It’s painful. Especially when you've sown love, loyalty, and time into those relationships.
Some friendships were built on who we used to be — not who we’re becoming but beloved, this too is part of the journey. Jesus Himself knew what it felt like to be betrayed with a kiss, denied by a close friend, and deserted in His greatest hour of need.
📖“He came to His own, and His own did not receive Him.” — John 1:11, NKJV
📖 “Do not put your trust in princes, nor in a son of man, in whom there is no help.” — Psalm 146:3 (NKJV)
So I’m learning — with a trembling heart and tear-stained prayers — to stop chasing the applause and start seeking alignment. To stop over-explaining and start discerning because real support doesn’t come with competition, backhanded compliments, or spiritual envy. Real love doesn’t distance itself when you heal — it draws nearer.
Sometimes your healing reveals who only loved your wounds. Sometimes your growth threatens those who refuse to grow and sometimes, your courage to change will mirror back their fear of transformation.
And it’s tempting — so tempting — to shrink back. To wonder if maybe you were too much. To try to return to the earlier version of yourself, just to feel loved again but God didn’t heal you so you could stay small but it's not your job to stay small so others feel comfortable.
It’s not your burden to carry what they won’t confront.
Stay soft. Stay surrendered. Stay aligned with Heaven.
📖 “For do I now persuade men, or God? Or do I seek to please men? For if I still pleased men, I would not be a bondservant of Christ.” — Galatians 1:10 (NKJV)
Let them go, beloved.
Release them — with love.
Bless them — from a distance because some people are best lived from the distance and trust that the One who sees every hidden motive will also send you the ones who’ll love you without strings, without agendas, without the need to dim your light.
He is the God who prunes — not to punish, but to prepare. So that you may bear more fruit (John 15:2) and in the silence of missing applause, hear the whisper of the One who delights in you always:
📖 “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by your name; You are Mine.” — Isaiah 43:1 (NKJV)
I’m learning to grieve what was… and release what no longer fits because real love doesn't walk away when you're no longer useful. It celebrates who you're becoming — even when that version of you no longer depends on their affirmation.
True friends won’t clip your wings to keep you close. They’ll bless your flight — even if it takes you beyond their reach.






