The Unspoken Price of Growth and Healing
Why personal growth can disrupt your relationships and how to help people adjust to you changing
Growth and healing get all the spotlight—empowering, life-changing, thrilling. But here’s the part no one puts on an inspirational poster: it’s lonely too.
It’s the kind of loneliness where you feel alienated because the people around you resist, reject, or even criticise your changes. Sometimes, growth means realising that the connections you once counted on don’t feel the same. And that’s a tough, isolating truth to face.
When you grow, your relationships start to shift; sometimes in unexpected ways. Suddenly, you’re changing, and others aren’t, and it creates this awkward distance. The jokes don’t land like they used to. Conversations feel a little...off. And the vibe you had with people now feels out of sync.
That’s because growth doesn’t just change who you are, it changes how you fit into your relationships. Maybe you’re speaking up now instead of biting your tongue, or hesitating where you used to jump right in. Those old dynamics that once held things together can start to unravel.
When I discuss these dynamics in talks or workshops, I often turn to psychiatrist Eric Berne’s Transactional Analysis (TA) to explain them. In his seminal 1964 book, Games People Play, Berne explores how relationships revolve around unspoken, repetitive “games.” TA digs beneath the surface of our daily interactions, and reveal how we fall into familiar roles like caretaker, joker, victim, or fixer.
These relational “games” become so ingrained they feel natural—normal, even comforting. But growth or healing has a way of pulling the rug out from under them, disrupting the status quo and breaking the unspoken rules others have come to depend on.
When you start stepping out of these roles (or rules of games)—whether through therapy, self-reflection, or personal growth—you’re not just changing yourself; you’re rewriting the script of those “games.” It’s like flipping the board mid-game.
Let’s look at some examples to help illustrate these roles and interactions.
In your family, maybe you’ve always been the one smoothing things over, keeping the peace, or supporting everyone else. Over time, this becomes an unspoken rule or unwritten contract. Others depend on you to maintain harmony, and you might feel valued because of it. But when you start asking for what you need or decline to take on everyone else’s burdens. It shakes things up. To those who’ve relied on you, this can feel unsettling, even threatening. They might think, “But we’ve been playing that other game, what is happening?” And they might accuse you of not caring anymore.
Imagine a friendship where you’ve always joked about romantic relationships being silly or unnecessary. Marriage and intimacy are totally laughable. But as you personally grow and change, you start seeing intimacy as something important—and realise those jokes may have been your way of avoiding it. Now, your conversations with your friend feel different. You don’t see eye-to-eye anymore, and by shifting your perspective, you’re breaking an unwritten contract that’s defined your dynamic for so long. For them, that change might not feel safe or comfortable.
Or take sibling relationships: one labeled the “successful one” and the other the “one who needs help.” The successful sibling might offer advice, step in during tough times, or reinforce their role as the 'capable' one. But when the sibling who “needs help” starts building independence, the power balance changes. The “successful” sibling may feel lost, even betrayed, by the change.
Similar patterns show up in romantic relationships. If you’ve been insecurely attached—over-giving, seeking approval, or fearing abandonment—your healing might feel like rejection to them. They might mistake your new, healthier ways of relating for “detachment” and even accuse you of not caring or loving them anymore.
In each example, there is an implicit game that the parties play. These games have certain rules which maintain stability. When there is a disruption in one of the roles, interactions and emotions start to shift. More importantly, there might be resistance.
Why do people resist change, even when it’s positive?
Long-standing relationships thrive on familiarity. The unspoken rules, the predictable rhythms. It’s what makes them feel stable. But growth and healing are like rearranging the living room without telling anyone. Suddenly, the couch is somewhere new, and everyone’s stumbling over the coffee table.
For those around you, this can feel unsettling. Your growth forces them to confront changes they might not be ready for. Resistance kicks in, not because they’re awful people, but because change is uncomfortable (and weird!). They’re used to the version of you that fit neatly into the script. They’re used to the old you.
Now, you’re rewriting the rules, and they’re not sure how to connect with the new you. It’s not that you’ve become a completely different person, but even small shifts in how you interact, your routines, or your decisions can make it feel like you’ve changed entirely.
This resistance shows up in different ways:
A dismissive “You’ve changed, but I guess it doesn’t matter.”
A guilt-laden “Oh, so you think you’re better than us now?”
Or even outright conflict—eye rolls, awkward silences, or heated arguments.
What’s happening is that your new habits and new patterns are introducing uncertainty. And let’s face it, people don’t like new patterns, even if they are healthier. Change, even when positive, disrupts this sense of stability.
People’s resistance is not always about control or because they want to hold you back. It’s more to do with fear: fear of losing the relationship as it was, fear of confronting their own lack of growth, or fear of being left behind. Their discomfort might even feel a bit like grief, mourning the version of you they used to know so well.
But sticking to old ways of relating that no longer serve you comes at a cost. It stifles your growth and keeps your relationships stuck in roles and routines that don’t reflect who you are becoming.
So, the question is: how can you navigate the shifting dynamics in your relationships while committing to your own growth?
The good news is that relationships can evolve alongside your growth. But it’s important not to rush into cutting ties with someone who resists your growth.
Start with some honest reflection. What roles have you been playing in your relationships? What unspoken rules have shaped how you interact with others? How might the changes you’ve gone through be affecting those rules?
Once you recognise these patterns, you can begin addressing them. And that requires communicating your needs, boundaries, what’s changing for you, why the old patterns no longer work, and how you hope to connect moving forward.
For example:
“I’d like us to share the responsibility of planning instead of me always taking the lead.”
“I’ve been working on being more assertive, so I might not always agree just to keep the peace like I used to.”
“I want us to spend more intentional time together—maybe we can pick a day each week to catch up.”
"I’ve been prioritising my mental health, so you might notice me stepping away from committing to some social events.”
Frame these conversations as invitations, not demands. You’re saying, “Hey, this is where I’m at, and I’d love for us to figure out how to make this work together.” This approach shows that you value their input and are open to collaboration.
You can soften the shift by involving them in the process:
“I know this feels different. How do you feel about it?”
“I’m still figuring this out too—do you have ideas for how we can adjust?”
“I value our relationship, and I want us to support each other better. Can we talk about how to do that?”
At the same time, don’t fall into the trap of over-explaining. Seeking approval for your growth and the changes you’re making can pull you into debates about its validity. Share what feels authentic, but don’t lose yourself trying to convince others.
Accepting the outcome
Not everyone will keep pace with your growth, and that’s okay. Some people will adapt and grow alongside you. Others may step back, needing time to process what’s happening.
When you respect someone enough to let them choose how to respond to your growth, you’re honouring both them and the connection you share. Growth can’t be forced; it’s more like a polite invitation to a party. If they’re not ready to join in, that’s their call.
The relationships that weather these shifts often emerge stronger, more genuine, and with fewer roles and games to slip into. There is less pretending.
But some people can’t, or maybe won’t keep up. Perhaps they’re not willing to make any compromises, honour your needs, or adapt to the new reality. Letting go of these connections can hurt, but it’s part of the process of personal change.
That said, don’t make “cutting ties” your first go-to move. There’s often a lot to try before you walk away. Growth invites reflection and conversation. But when it becomes clear that a relationship no longer serves either of you, releasing it is an act of kindness. For both of you.
It’s also useful to know that growth often comes with grief. You grieve the relationships that no longer fit, the roles you’ve outgrown, and even the older version of yourself you’re leaving behind. But here’s the thing: grief doesn’t mean your growth is wrong. It just means you cared deeply for what was, and now it’s time to make room for what’s next.
In mature relationships, change is met with flexibility and understanding. W. Somerset Maugham captures this sentiment in his book The Summing Up:
We are creatures of change, change is the atmosphere we breathe […] We are not the same persons this year as last; nor are those we love. It is a happy chance if we, changing, continue to love a changed person.
Maugham is talking about romantic relationships, but this applies to all the close connections in our lives. The real test of any relationship is whether you can roll with the changes and keep loving someone as they evolve. It’s a sign of true maturity—and a pretty solid bond. In other words, love isn’t just about sticking around; it’s about the willingness to welcome change and letting it shape how you connect.
As you go through healing and growth, I hope your relationships stay loving and supportive, even with the bumps and changes that come your way. And just as importantly, I hope you extend that same grace and understanding to those in your life who are navigating their own transformations.
How have your relationships shifted as you (or people around you) have grown?
I’d love to hear your experiences or reflections!
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Read every word. So relevant for me right now.
Always so many useful insights, Selda!