In Aotearoa’s passionate, close-knit music scene, connection is everything. Our community is small – sometimes wonderfully so, sometimes painfully. It’s the kind of place where a former friend might be on a funding panel judging your song, and your best friend is likely to be competing for the same gigs. Lines blur. Roles overlap. And often, the hardest part isn’t the music, it’s the unspoken emotional cost of chasing dreams while trying to protect your heart.

I’ve always been someone who wants to give – time, energy, encouragement. If you’ve worked with me, you’ll know I’m the first to share your release, clap from the front row, and lift others up wherever I can. Because I believe in artists supporting artists. I really do.
But sometimes, the kindness isn’t returned. And over the years many have come to me for advice on what to do when musical friendships get complicated.

When Support Feels One-Sided
It often starts beautifully. Someone reaches out to say they love your music. You grab a coffee or write together. The creative spark is real – and soon you’re talking about life and lyrics and maybe even dreams for the future.
But somewhere along the friendship line, the energy shifts. They start omitting you from key conversations. They share your name in rooms that benefit them, but don’t return the favour when it could help you. You find out about their new project after the press release goes live. You cheer them on, but when it’s your turn in the spotlight? Silence.
I’ve experienced this, and know of several others particularly women, who have been in the same boat. And if you’re a generous soul in this industry, you probably have too. It’s confusing, and it can sting. Not because you expected anything in return – but because you believed the friendship was genuine and more than a transaction.
It’s taken me time, but I’ve learned this: not everyone who walks beside you is meant to stay. And that’s okay. Your worth isn’t defined by who shows up. It’s defined by who you are when no one’s watching – and how you treat people along the way.

Being a Real Friend in a Tricky Industry
Making friends is hard – full stop. Making good friends in a competitive, emotionally charged, high-stakes industry? That’s a whole new level. But it is possible. And when it works, it’s magic.
Some of my most beautiful memories in music have come from working with my best friend on songwriting collaborations. There’s nothing quite like the safety of that space – where you can be vulnerable, messy, honest, and unfiltered. No power plays. No posturing. Just the pure joy of making something from the heart, together.
That’s the kind of connection I believe in. That’s the kind I look for. I also know the deep joy of feeling seen, supported, and celebrated by someone who truly gets it. Those relationships remind you why you started doing this in the first place.
Early on in my career I was burned. (Please know if you’ve been burned, you’re not alone.) If you’re still searching for your people, don’t give up. Keep showing up as your real self – the right ones will find you. Remember, if something feels ‘off’, it usually is. Our intuition as artists is powerful – we feel things deeply, and that includes undercurrents in relationships. Don’t second-guess yourself when someone’s energy leaves you drained or confused.
Look for reciprocity. Healthy friendships are mutual. Do they show up for your shows, celebrate your releases, ask how you are – without needing something in return? If not, you’re not in a friendship, you’re in a transaction.
If someone hides their opportunities from you, only reaches out to one-up you, or frames their success in ways that make you feel small – take note. It’s not about jealousy. It’s about the emotional safety that should exist in real friendships.

Collaboration with Care
Because the lines blur so easily, I’ve learned how important it is to set clear, respectful intentions when working with someone new, to protect them as much as you.
• Have the conversation early. Are we hanging out, writing together, or both?
• Put small agreements in writing. Nothing too formal – just enough to avoid confusion.
• Clarify credits and expectations. Who’s doing what? How will it be shared?
• Check in if dynamics shift. You’re allowed to realign.
Being clear doesn’t mean being cold. It means being kind – to yourself and to the people you’re creating with.

Find Your True Circle
There are good people in music – the kind who celebrate your wins with genuine joy, who show up for your gigs without needing anything in return, and who offer encouragement simply because they believe in community over competition. These are the friends who lift others as they rise, who share opportunities instead of guarding them, and who understand that the music industry is big enough for all of us to succeed. They remind you that authenticity still exists in this business – not just in lyrics and melodies, but in the way we treat one another offstage.

The Small-Country Struggle: Friends on Funding Panels
In a country as small and interconnected as New Zealand, the lines between the creative and professional worlds often blur. The singer who once opened for you might now sit on a funding panel, work in radio, or book acts for a major festival. And while that kind of overlap can build strong networks, it can also create emotional minefields – especially when personal connections don’t translate into professional support. It’s a tough pill to swallow when someone you once championed doesn’t show up for you in return.It’s a delicate dance.

We all know that bias can’t play a role in these decisions – and for the most part, it doesn’t. But when someone you’ve championed quietly votes for someone else’s project, it can hurt. We don’t talk enough about this tension. But it’s real. And it’s not petty to feel disappointed. You can be proud of how you’ve shown up, regardless of the outcome.

Grieving the Grant that Didn’t Come
Let’s talk about the heartbreak of not getting the funding. You’ve spent weeks (maybe months) crafting an application that reflects your soul. You dared to believe. You visualised the recording sessions, the film crew, the tour. And then – the email: ‘Unfortunately…’ It can feel like the air’s been knocked out of you.

Let yourself grieve. Seriously. Sit with it. Cry, scream, binge a series. You’re not being overdramatic. You’re human. You hoped. You tried. And it didn’t go your way.
But when you’re ready – and only when you’re ready – come back to this truth: A grant does not define your legitimacy.
A ‘no’ does not make your music less worthy.
And rejection doesn’t mean you’re not meant for this. Much of the most enduring art has been made without institutional support. Some of the greatest voices found their path through side doors. You’re not behind. You’re just on your own unique road.

Protecting Your Peace in a Public World
Here are a few gentle reminders I return to when the music world feels too heavy:
• Protect your energy. Not every invite, DM, or collab deserves your yes.
• Take social breaks. You don’t have to watch everyone’s wins while you’re healing.
• Find your anchors. Whether it’s journaling, a walk, or list making,  come home to yourself.
• Celebrate your own milestones. Especially the quiet ones that no one else sees.

Closing Thoughts
You don’t need to harden your heart – but you can honour it.
You can walk away without making a scene. You can grieve a lost opportunity and still rise. You can let people reveal themselves – and then choose your circle accordingly.
You are not too sensitive, too trusting, or too much. You’re just learning who’s for you. And in an industry that doesn’t always play fair, that’s a strength – not a weakness.
Keep showing up. Keep making honest music. Keep clapping for others when it’s real – and remember, you don’t need to understand or like someone’s art to show your support.
You’ve got this. And if you ever need someone to remind you of that – my inbox is open.

Miranda Easten is a chart-topping singer-songwriter, poet, and radio host known for her raw, unfiltered lyrics and emotional storytelling. Her songs – equal parts grit and grace – have landed on CMT, MTV, and Nashville TV, resonating with listeners who crave honesty over polish. When she’s not in the studio or on stage Miranda brings country music to life on the airwaves, mentors aspiring songwriters, and stands up for real, authentic voices in an industry that too often favours the manufactured over the meaningful.