“ My longtime friend, whom I have known since high school and still consider very close despite living apart, wants to borrow money to buy a new home while waiting for his old home to sell. I do not have enough money to lend him, but I am afraid that telling him this will make him feel rejected. ”
For the past fifteen months, our high-needs baby has been with us every day—my wife, his mother, and me. We were exhausted. I was working too, and even ordinary things like eating at a restaurant came with pressure: he might yell, speak loudly, or throw food on the floor. Then we started sending him to daycare. He had a good day, and seemed to be okay there. For the first time, my wife and I had a real day to ourselves. We ate at a restaurant, talked, had fun, and did not feel under pressure. There was space to be together again. When we went to pick him up, I was worried he might not be used to being away from us. He cried when he saw us and reached his arms toward me. I hugged him tightly for a few seconds, then he turned to his mother and asked for a hug. After she hugged him, he came back to me. He wanted both of us to be there. I wanted to ask him, “How was your day?” I did not want him to feel bad. If he wanted a hug, we would give him a big one. Afterward, I spent two hours with him. We played, went outside, and took a walk nearby. Usually I was too busy and my day felt broken up by his crying, but this time I had been able to work and live more steadily. At the end of the day, I really wanted to be with him. Everything felt more regulated. He had a good day, my wife and I had a good day, and then we had a good time together. I think a little distance can be important, no matter how much you love someone. My biggest wish now is that he keeps enjoying daycare.
I grew up hearing that when something fails, I should look for the reason in myself: What did I do wrong? What can I improve? That can be useful, but it can also become misleading. It can make every outcome feel like evidence about who you are. I remembered this because of a difficult period at a previous company. A new manager seemed determined to diminish me. At the time, I kept asking myself what I had done wrong. I assumed that if I worked hard, treated everyone well, and was capable, people would like me. But the situation was more complicated. I was one of the strongest engineers in the organization, and senior leaders already knew and trusted me. The new manager was also trying to establish authority and prove their technical leadership. Looking back, I can see that the conflict was not simply a performance problem or a failure on my part. I was young then, and eventually I decided to leave. Now I think the important thing is not to treat yourself as the dominating factor in everything that happens. The world is made of many people and many conditions, and you are only one of them. That applies to success as well as failure. When you succeed or lose, it is not just you. Remembering that makes life easier—and most of the time, better—because you do not torture yourself trying to fix what was never yours alone to control.
