10/06/2025
The Crossroads of Loyalty:
Where You Are vs. Where You Want to Be
By Grant “The ByteWriter” Harmse
Sometimes, life tosses us in front of crossroads where one turn leads to personal satisfaction, and the other demands commitment to something greater than ourselves.
These moments feel weighty, like trying to move through quicksand while fire rains from above. Yet, these decisions teach us the most about who we truly are.
At the heart of this struggle lies loyalty, not bitter and beautiful, empowering and arduous, but here’s the blunt truth: loyalty is a two-way street. It’s about respect. It’s about trust. What holds true for you must hold true for those around you. What goes for the goose, goes for the gander. Loyalty owed must reflect loyalty given, and more often than not, this principle isn’t just tested; it’s stretched and pulled apart.
Loyalty Is Earned, Not Assumed
Let’s set the record straight, there’s a world of difference between loyalty and blind allegiance. To truly be loyal, there has to be something worth holding onto, mutual trust, invested time, and shared purpose.
Loyalty without respect becomes servitude, but respect without loyalty becomes selfishness.
Here’s the kicker: true loyalty comes with the expectation of reciprocity, you honor what has been offered, and in turn, respect and trust build into something self-sustaining.
Like a tightrope balanced between two supports, loyalty can only work when both ends hold strong. It inspires a core question whenever you have to make big decisions: Am I valuing the loyalty others have shown me? Or am I disregarding that loyalty because what I want right now feels more important?
The Hungry Dog Analogy
Here’s where hard lessons reveal themselves. Picture a stray dog roaming the streets, hungry and desperate.
The dog will eat wherever food is offered. There’s no loyalty to the hand that feeds; there’s no gratitude to the source of nourishment. The only thing that matters to the dog is survival in the moment, it moves from one opportunity to the next without thought or remorse.
Now apply the analogy to people. When we make decisions, do we act like hungry dogs, chasing fleeting gratification or self-preservation? Or do we pause, recognize who or what has sustained us, and honor it with our commitment?
Hungry beings can’t be loyal. Their decisions are dictated by temporary needs. And if we let ourselves slip into this mindset, we undervalue, and ultimately betray, the loyalty and faith others have generously placed in us.
The Hardest Choice: Where You Should Be vs. Where You Want to Be
Hard choices often force us to confront our desires against our duty. Where you want to be may feel exciting, self-serving, even liberating.
Meanwhile, where you should be may weigh you down, it asks for sacrifices, demands effort, and often feels like the unfair, harder choice.
The truth lies in the ripple effects. When you choose where you should be, you demonstrate something rare: an ability to place the "needs of the many" above your personal cravings.
Look closely at the people who depend on you, whether it’s your family, team, or community. Their loyalty to you is the foundation that keeps them standing tall. It took effort, trust, and sacrifice on their part to foster that mutual connection.
Abandoning them for personal convenience risks more than your short-term gain, it risks leaving scorched earth behind you.
It’s easy to say, “I want to go where I’m happiest.” But happiness without integrity weighs shallow, and fleeting satisfaction fades as guilt and regret settle in.
Still, when you choose to honor that collective loyalty, it isn’t just about restraint, it’s leadership. It’s love.
What Goes For the Goose, Goes for the Gander
Decisions made in the heat of self-centeredness often burn bridges with those we claim to value. A relevant saying echoes this sentiment: What goes for the goose, goes for the gander. If you demand loyalty, it is only morally sound to return it.
Picture this: You are stranded, and someone sacrifices their time, resources, and emotional labor to help you. Months later, life gives you a chance to repay that trust, but instead, you walk away because it’s easier or suits your “preference.” What does that say about the you they invested in?
And if the roles were reversed, wouldn’t you consider their betrayal unforgivable? The loyalty test demands one thing: consistency.
It doesn’t matter which side of the bridge you’re on, if you haven’t maintained it, it collapses entirely.
The Needs of the Many vs. The Needs of the Few
At its core, loyalty requires us to consider the ripple effect of our choices. You may be tempted to prioritize immediate personal needs, but true growth and contribution come when you ask:
1. What does my team, circle, or community need from me right now?
2. How will my decision impact the people who’ve sustained me long term?
3. Am I thinking like a hungry dog, reacting in the moment, or am I building something meaningful here?
These questions aren’t easy, but loyalty demands a perspective larger than your own. The many will always outweigh the few when it comes to the big picture. Life is about building packs, family, friends, or teams united in trust, respect, and common goals.
And loyalty is the glue that binds them.
No Hungry Dogs, Only Steadfast Wolves
We’re not stray dogs. Our lives are too short, too important, to allow decisions to be dictated by short-term convenience. Loyalty to a greater purpose or a well-founded relationship transforms us, not into hungry scavengers, but into wolves who strengthen their pack.
So the next time you’re staring down life’s crossroads, take a breath. Ask yourself: Are you choosing where you should be, or are you chasing what you merely want in the moment? Honor the hands that fed and invested in you, and let your decisions reflect a commitment that others can trust.
After all, hungry dogs will eat wherever the food is, but steadfast wolves build legacies that feed generations to come. Choose long-term loyalty over short-term hunger.
Choose honor over impulse. Therein lies your strength.
Stay loyal,
Grant “The ByteWriter” Harmse