Say It Anyway - The Cost of Honest Friendship and Why It’s Worth It

There’s a part of growing up that no one really warns you about... the more honest you become, the more friendships shift. Some deepen. Some disappear. And some get uncomfortable before they get real.

I used to think being a good mate meant backing your friends no matter what. Don’t rock the boat. Don’t say the hard thing. Don’t question their choices. Just have a laugh, share a beer, and keep it light. That worked, for a while.

But it stopped working when I started asking better questions of myself. When I stopped playing the image game. When I started being real about my own mistakes, my purpose, what kind of man I wanted to be and what kind of mate I needed in my corner.

That’s when it changed.

I’ve said things that cost me friendships. I’ve been honest about someone’s behaviour and watched them shut down or pull away. Not because I was attacking them, but because I was holding up a mirror they weren’t ready to look into.

And it hurt. Because I wasn’t trying to shame them. I was trying to show them I cared. To tell the truth in a way that could call them up, not cut them down.

And let’s be honest… there’s a way to give feedback that’s respectful and graceful and that takes practice.

Sometimes, they came back. Grateful. Changed. Stronger.

Sometimes, they didn’t.

But here’s the thing: I don’t regret saying it. What I regret is not always knowing how to say it better......

I’ve also been on the receiving end of truth.

There’ve been times when someone has told me something about myself I didn’t want to hear. Called me out. Shone a light on a blind spot I thought I’d hidden well. It stung. Bruised the ego. Sometimes I went quiet, pulled away, sat in the discomfort. But over time, and usually in hindsight, I realised they were right.

And I was grateful.

There’s a grace in receiving honest, developmental feedback. Not defensively. Not with a counterattack. But with curiosity and humility. It’s hard… but it’s where growth lives.

The younger me didn’t know how to do that. I didn’t have the tools, or maybe the courage. If someone’s words or actions bothered me, I wouldn’t confront it. I’d just drift. Ghost them. Let a friendship dissolve instead of risking an awkward conversation.

Looking back now, that’s one of my regrets.

Some of those friendships were good. They just needed a moment of honesty to stay good. To stay alive.

To my friends I left behind....I’m sorry for not saying what needed to be said. I didn’t know how. But I’m learning.

That’s wisdom I had to earn the long way, the life lived way.

Honesty, done right, isn’t about being brutal. It’s about being brave. It’s saying, "I care enough to tell you the truth, even if it risks the comfort we’ve built."

That kind of friendship is rare. But it’s what I’m chasing now.

Because I don’t want mates who need me to pretend. I want the kind who can call me out when I’m off track. Who can receive the same in return. Who know that tension isn’t the end of a friendship… it’s just a moment in time that leads to something deeper.

I’m extremely grateful to have friends like this. They’ve been hard-earned. We still have our moments, but there’s truth, clarity, and respect....and that’s worth something.

It takes maturity to hear a hard truth and lean in instead of lashing out.

It takes integrity to offer one without superiority.

It takes trust to survive both.

But when it lands....when both people are willing to walk through the sting and get to the other side....what you end up with isn’t just a friendship.

It’s a brotherhood.

So yeah, honesty might lose you some mates. But if it does, maybe they weren’t really ready for what you had to offer. And let’s face it.....life’s short.

Say it anyway.

The right ones will stay.