When Friendship Shifts: Growing Pains, Grace, and Letting Go

This may be past my age class, but I’ve seen so many clips of the Tee Tee, Brooklyn, and Gigi moment at Rolling Loud that it made me reflect on my own experience with friendship.

As someone who preaches the importance of sisterhood, I’ve gone through the seasons. I’ve lost people along the way. I’ve felt the sting of misalignment. And my honest stance on this situation? Wasn’t shit funny. If my girls would laugh with someone outside of our friendship while I’m visibly uncomfortable—it’s over for them. No discussion.

Honestly y’all friendship shifts.

What you used to laugh at one year might hit completely differently the next. What felt like safety in a moment might feel like betrayal in the next season. And sometimes, those subtle changes in energy, loyalty, or understanding are enough to shake the whole foundation.

That’s the hardest part about growing—especially in your 20s. You’re evolving, stretching, becoming someone you’ve never been before… and not every friendship is built to survive that shift.

Maybe you’re in a friend group where things used to feel solid. You were the closest. Y’all were inseparable. But then time passes. People change. Suddenly, the one you used to vent to is now posting cute bestie reels with someone else. And no one did anything “wrong,” but the dynamic just isn’t the same. That’s real.

There’s no manual for this. No blueprint for how to grieve a friendship that didn’t necessarily end, but doesn’t feel like home anymore. And for first-gen folks like us—where our friendships often serve as chosen family—it can feel like abandonment. Like losing a piece of your identity.

And in times like this, where everything is public and instant, we’re quick to label people: fake, disloyal, mean girl, jealous. We cancel our friends just as fast as we celebrate them. Sometimes it’s justified. Sometimes it’s reactionary. But the truth is… we don’t always give each other room to grow, or to mess up and come back from it.

I saw the response videos too. And if I’m honest, I’d be really disappointed if my friends handled something like that the same way. There was a lot of defense. A lot of “I’m not a bad friend” energy. But sometimes we are.

And I say that with love, because I’ve been there.

I think about the moments where I wasn’t the best friend. Where I snapped at someone who didn’t deserve it, caught an attitude because I was overwhelmed, said some shit that was out of line. And I’ve been on the receiving end too. That’s the thing about friendship—it sees you through so many versions of yourself. If it’s real, it holds space for your humanity. It doesn’t excuse the harm, but it allows room for repair.

What’s helped me keep my friendships strong isn’t perfection. It’s accountability. It’s respect.

Instead of letting things fester or fall apart, I’ve learned how to say: “What I did was wrong. I apologize. That wasn’t about you, and I hate that it made you feel that way. Can we talk about it?”

That small moment of humility goes a long way. It makes space for healing. For grace. For understanding. It keeps the door open.

Because intention matters—but impact matters more. You can mean well and still cause harm. You can love someone and still let them down. And the repair isn’t in pretending it didn’t happen. It’s in owning it, learning from it, and doing better.

So maybe this blog isn’t about the drama. Maybe it’s about the reminder that even the most beautiful friendships can change. And that doesn’t mean you failed. It doesn’t mean they were fake. It means you’re human. It means growth is happening.

Friendship in your 20s is layered. Sometimes, you’re Tee Tee—disappointed and hurt, realizing the people you love might not always show up the way you need. Other times, you’re Brooklyn or Gigi—realizing after the fact that your silence said more than you meant it to. Both positions are uncomfortable. Both require reflection. And both are a part of growing up.

The truth is, some friendships will grow with you. Some won’t. And both outcomes are okay.

The goal isn’t to hold onto people out of habit, guilt, or history—it’s to build a life where you feel safe, supported, and seen. Where your relationships reflect your values, not just your memories. And when something shifts, you get to decide: is this a rupture we can repair, or a chapter that’s closing?

Either way, you’re allowed to choose peace. You’re allowed to redefine what friendship looks like as you become more of who you are.

What matters most is that you don’t abandon you in the process.

And if you’re in a season where your friendships are shifting, here are some things that might help you navigate it all with a little more clarity and care:

1. Pay attention to how you feel around your friends.

Friendship should feel like relief, not pressure. If you leave every hangout feeling drained, insecure, or unseen—it’s worth checking in with yourself. Sometimes your body knows what your heart hasn’t said yet.

2. Stop performing loyalty you no longer feel.

You can love someone and still admit the dynamic no longer serves you. You’re not fake for evolving. You’re not disloyal for needing distance. Honor the truth of where your relationship actually stands.

3. Learn the difference between a pattern and a mistake.

People mess up. And if someone fails you once but shows up with humility, accountability, and change—that’s something to build on. But if the harm is repetitive, dismissive, or minimized, that’s a pattern. Believe it.

4. Be willing to say the hard thing.

“I miss you.”
“I didn’t feel supported.”
“I think we’re growing apart.”
It’s vulnerable as hell, but sometimes the honesty opens the door to deeper connection—or at least clarity. Silence doesn’t protect the friendship; it just prolongs confusion.

5. Let go without bitterness.

Not every friendship ends with a blow-up. Some just fade. And that doesn’t make them less real. Grieve the closeness, cherish the good, and allow space for both endings and beginnings.

6. Prioritize friendships that feel mutual.

You deserve reciprocity. You deserve to be poured into. Stop chasing people who only show up when it’s convenient. Invest where the love feels returned and the energy feels aligned.

Friendship in your 20s will stretch you. It will teach you who you are, how you love, what you need, and what you’re no longer willing to tolerate. Let it.

Let it shape you—not into someone harder, but someone clearer.

Someone who chooses peace, softness, and people who see you fully… and stay.