About 10 years ago, I met an amazing woman online through my nonprofit organization. She had joined my Facebook group, reached out, and asked if we could meet up. We lived in the same city, and I said yes without hesitation.
From the moment we sat down, it was clear:
This was going to be a special connection.
She was older than me, but we instantly vibed.
She was a fellow entrepreneur.
A woman of God.
Married. Grounded. Visionary.
Still is, to this day.
And even though she hadn’t yet taken some of the steps I had taken in business, we found a rhythm. She had wisdom in ways I didn’t, and I had experience in places she was still growing. We poured into each other, supported each other, challenged each other. The friendship bloomed—beautifully.
So when she hosted her very first major event, she asked me to be the keynote speaker.
I said yes without blinking.
I showed up, prepared, excited, ready to deliver.
It was phenomenal. Everything about it felt right.
And then came the next year.
She asked me to return—this time, not as the keynote, but to lead a breakout workshop.
Again, I said yes. Gladly. No ego, no hesitation. Just… yes.
And that became the rhythm.
Where Do You Need Me?
Every year, she’d host another event.
Every year, she’d ask me to fill a role.
And every year, I said yes.
Not because I had to.
Not because she pressured me.
But because I loved her.
Because I was committed to her vision.
Because I believed in what she was building.
And because, at the time, I was still operating from a space of “wherever you need me, I’ll go.”
You need a workshop facilitator? Done.
You need an MC? I got it.
You need help setting up the space? Let me know what time.
Whatever she needed, I found a way to say yes.
Because I could.
Because I was capable.
Because I was loyal.
But then… things started to shift.
The Quiet Discomfort of Overstaying
I began to feel something. Not from her—but from me.
A quiet nudge.
A gentle resistance.
A whisper that said, “This no longer feels aligned.”
It wasn’t that the work was too hard.
It wasn’t that I didn’t believe in her anymore.
It was that I had evolved.
And I could feel that I was showing up in ways that no longer honored who I had become.
The truth is, I had changed.
My priorities had shifted.
My capacity was different.
And what used to feel exciting and expansive was now starting to feel heavy and off-rhythm.
But still—I said yes.
Because the thought of disappointing her was unbearable.
The Hardest Conversation I Had to Have
And then came the moment.
The one where I had to tell her the truth.
That I no longer wanted to serve in the same capacity.
That while I was still present, still supportive, still invested in her success… I needed to shift.
I needed to be loyal to me.
And let me tell you—I cried.
Not because she did anything wrong.
Not because she made me feel guilty.
But because it was the first time I stood up for myself in a relationship that was built on love.
It’s easy to speak up when the other person is toxic.
It’s easy to walk away from something that’s harmful.
But what do you do when the person is good, kind, generous, loving… and it still doesn’t feel right anymore?
That’s the real test.
The Turning Point: Loyalty
I realized something powerful:
Loyalty to others should never require disloyalty to self.
I had been loyal to the friendship.
Loyal to the mission.
Loyal to the memory of who we were when we started.
But I hadn’t paused to ask:
What am I being loyal to now?
Because loyalty without reflection becomes obligation.
And obligation without joy becomes resentment.
I had to learn that honoring my gifts, my voice, and my spirit didn’t make me disloyal.
It made me whole.
And You Know What Happened?
She received it.
She honored it.
She loved me through it.
She welcomed my evolution with laughter and grace.
Now, when she reaches out, she says, “What would make you feel good?”
Not just, “Can you do it?”
But, “Is this in alignment with where you are now?”
That’s what healthy friendship looks like.
That’s what growing with people—not apart from them—looks like.
And now, when I show up, I do so fully.
Without guilt. Without confusion. Without pressure.
Because I’ve learned that being loyal to someone else doesn’t mean abandoning yourself.
Let’s Talk About It
Where in your life are you still saying yes out of loyalty—but at the cost of your peace?
What commitment, relationship, or role do you need to revisit—not because they’re wrong, but because you’ve grown?
This is your invitation to be loyal to the you that’s evolving.
To the version of yourself that no longer fits into old containers.
To the gifts that deserve to be honored at full power.
And if you need community as you learn to say yes to yourself more boldly, join us in Wealthy Women Conversations on Facebook. We’re learning, growing, and making decisions from love—not fear.
#SlowerWealthierHappier
#SoftLivingIsSuccess
#BlackWomenDeserveEase
#ThisLifeFeelsLikeMe
#LoyalToMyselfFirst
Slower, Wealthier, Happier 
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