Heavy Is the Crown on the Head of the Queen That Keeps the King: The Weight of Being a Creative's Confidant

In a world that celebrates success, brilliance, and fame, there is a quiet truth that often goes unnoticed: those who stand behind the creative—the ones who support, listen, and provide space for the chaos of artistry—bear a weight as heavy as any crown. They are the keepers of sacred space, the ones who shelter the creative from the noise of the world, but in doing so, they themselves carry an immense burden.

It is not just about being there when the applause fades. It’s about understanding the unique blend of vulnerability and strength that comes with being a confidant to someone who’s constantly in the spotlight. The crown, though heavy, is worn with grace by those who understand that their role is not one of recognition but one of quiet support and unconditional love.

The Burden of Discretion vs. Secrecy

A common misconception about being close to a creative is that you are privy to secrets. People often blur the lines between secrecy and discretion. Secrecy implies hiding something; it’s about concealing or protecting certain parts of a person’s life. Discretion, on the other hand, is an art—knowing what to say, when to say it, and to whom. A confidant must navigate the delicate dance of respecting boundaries, knowing that what is shared in sacred spaces is not meant for public consumption. It’s a trust, and it is sacred.

The creative lives in a world where every word, every gesture, and every moment is scrutinized. The weight of this reality is not only theirs to carry but often shared by the person who stands by them. Those who are close to a creative—whether as friends, partners, or colleagues—must learn the difference between what can be spoken about and what must remain untold. But, unfortunately, many people believe that the mere act of being let into someone’s world—of receiving glimpses into the creative's life—is an invitation to cross boundaries.

The Entitlement of the Public Persona

In a culture obsessed with celebrity, the lines between the public and private selves become blurred. People feel entitled to what they perceive as an inherent right to know someone’s truth simply because they’ve been allowed to witness a sliver of their personal life. A tweet, a blog post, an Instagram story—all these things become a form of currency in a world where intimacy is often mistaken for familiarity.

But the truth is far more complex. There are those who believe that because they have seen or heard a creative’s struggles or triumphs—because they’ve witnessed moments of vulnerability through public platforms—they understand who that person is. The reality is that what the world sees is only a fragment of the truth, and far too often, people mistake the curated glimpses of someone's life for the full picture.

The creative’s public life may invite empathy or even admiration, but it does not entitle anyone to invade the sacredness of their private world. There is a quiet joy in being able to retreat from the spotlight into a space where judgment for condemnation doesn’t exist, where the only expectations are those that arise from mutual respect and understanding. When someone from the creative’s inner circle wants what is public—wants the show, the performance, the attention—it can feel like a betrayal of the sacredness of that relationship.

The Cost of Peace: Turmoil for the Confidant

There’s a particular kind of turmoil that comes with being the one who supports a creative person. The confidant carries the weight of knowing their partner’s vulnerabilities, dreams, and struggles. They provide the peace that fuels the creative to continue their work. But this peace comes at a cost.

The creative’s life, by nature, is turbulent—often filled with the demands of a public that will never fully understand the pressures of constant performance. Yet, when the creative is able to retreat to a space of quiet with their confidant, they find solace. The confidant, however, may struggle with feeling left out or neglected when the creative’s attention is consumed by the world outside.

This is the crux of the challenge for the confidant: understanding that their role is not to be the loudest voice in the room, but to be the quiet space where the creative can find rest. This can feel isolating at times. As much as the confidant may give, there are moments of doubt—moments where they may question whether the relationship is one-sided or whether they are merely a source of comfort for the creative without receiving the same in return.

The Sacred Space of Creation

What many fail to understand is that creatives need their sacred space more than anyone realizes. It’s not about grandeur or lavish gestures; it’s about being present in the simplest of ways. A creative needs someone who knows not only their public persona but also their private, quiet needs—their favorite song, their deepest fears, their quietest joys. This person doesn’t need to be in the spotlight or even accompany them on every stage. They simply need to be the anchor that holds the creative steady when the world’s chaos is too much to bear.

The confidant’s role is to know the creative's heart in a way no one else does. They are the one who remembers the small details—the little things that make the creative feel seen and valued, not for their fame, but for their humanity. This is where the beauty of the relationship lies. The creative’s peace doesn’t come from the applause; it comes from knowing that, when the curtains fall, there is someone who will be there without the expectation of anything other than companionship, comfort, and understanding.

The Mutual Fulfillment of a Sacred Bond

When two people share a deep connection—one built on mutual respect, understanding, and trust—they create a bond that transcends the material world. The creative’s success is not simply a result of their talent but also of the support they receive from those who hold their peace. And for the confidant, the joy is not in the spotlight but in the quiet moments that come with knowing they are part of something much bigger than themselves.

This bond is not easy to navigate. It requires a deeper understanding of love, patience, and communication. Words may be few, but the understanding is profound. The confidant is the one who helps carry the weight of the crown, and in doing so, they share in the creative’s triumphs and struggles.

As the creative rises to new heights, it is important to remember that the true kingmaker is not always the one on stage, but often the one who quietly holds space for them behind the scenes. The next time you feel deprived or neglected, understand that you are the reason the creative is able to stand tall and shine. You are the quiet force that holds their crown in place.

Heavy is the crown on the head of the queen that keeps the king. You are not left out or abandoned; you are the fuel that makes the king’s light shine brighter. When the world fades away, and the creative returns to their sacred space, it is your presence—quiet, steady, and unwavering—that makes all the difference.

So, to the confidants of the world, I say this: Do not underestimate your worth. You are the inspiration behind every song, every performance, every triumph. You are the kingmaker in the quietest of ways. This separation of church and state is intentional, required and beneficial :-)

Gratitude and grace in all ways,

Alfonso Brooks
Founder, AfriKin