There are things where the conditions that make them possible and set them up for thriving are the ones that would destroy them in the long run. The factors of their own long-term destruction are what make them possible.
There are things where the conditions that make it impossible for them to be born, or that would destroy them in their infancy, are the ones that would make them thrive in the long term.
Things outgrow their beginnings. The soil from which they sprang into existence becomes poison. The first stem bends threatening the plant’s crown, and the rain that once would have enveloped and drowned it now trickles down its burgeoning sides, renewing and emboldening it.
Sometimes it will be a good call to anticipate that this will happen, so we pay attention to what will become toxic, or what will harmonise in the future, once the thing has matured.
This is not betrayal. Despite these changes, the thing will never have ceased to be itself. It will have revealed more of itself through the way it grows, because the way it grows is also representative of what it is as something that exists within the tireless tide of time. Even if it becomes unrecognisable, it is so because we didn’t understand enough the nature of its originating seed.